All Because of Glasses
by teaandcharcoalforbreakfast
Summary: When magic exists but is cancelled out by those of the opposite sex, humans have split by gender and have to reproduce with the help of faeries. This is the story of two men who just want a kid of their own. USUKUS, fantasy AU, mpreg, occasional smut
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **You know, when I started writing this fic I swore that I would never deanon. Mpreg is my only kink that I'm actually ashamed of. However, I have not been able to write anything so much as half-decent recently and (to my ultimate shame) I'm rather fond of this one. So, here we are.

This is set in a sort of fantasy AU. All that you need to know is that in this world humans are all born with inherent magical powers. However, men and women are born with perfectly opposite magics (same powers, just a different base). If exposed to the opposite sex for too long, the person in question will lose his or her powers, which are needed to co-exist with the myriad magical creatures in the world. Therefore, there are two sort of 'sibling' villages a few days' walk apart: an all-male and an all-female one. As most humans are monogamous, the norm in this world is to marry someone of your own gender. Reproduction is usually done with supernatural aid by faeries, as will (obviously) be described in later chapters.

Also, Alfred's mom didn't want to give him up after he was born (several weeks later, they found him and sent him to the men's village), meaning he lost a lot of his magic. Basically, he starts failing whenever there's no-contact magic (he can use his powers on himself, or things he has in his hands, but he couldn't shoot a fireball or something). He spends most of the time he's not doing chores around the house trying to design machines that will make up for his disability.

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><p>In Alfred's opinion, they were holding hands and walking through the village. In Arthur's he was desperately trying to keep Alfred from running away without letting the over-excited idiot dislocate his shoulder. At least he had a better reason than usual for being so manic- he'd finally finished his pet project of five months, a pair of spectacles. Of course, such things were barely a rarity- an old man and his son specialized in making them along with other lenses (not that they were cheap, but…) But then Alfred had started tinkering with them by messing around with various spells on various pieces of glass to attempt to make up for his imperfect sight. This morning he'd finally gotten it right, it seemed.<p>

Arthur had been sitting in his study attempting to come up with a way to make a summoning circle safer when he heard a cry of excitement and a loud crash from Alfred's room down the hall. Oh, dammit, he thought, what had he broken _this _time? Well, he decided that he'd better go and help. With a sigh, he stood and went to the other room.

But then Alfred was just standing there staring at a candle on his desk with the biggest grin on his face. His chair had tipped over, but there didn't seem to be any damage to the surrounding area. That was strange enough by itself, but the way he was staring at that candle…

"What is it?" Arthur asked, taking a step into the room, trying desperately to see what Arthur was seeing.

"I see it," He whispered excitedly, "I see it!"

"See what?" Arthur walked closer and peered down at the candle. There was nothing odd about it at all as far as he could tell.

"Remember how I asked you to light this candle with witchfire earlier today?

Arthur's eyes widened.

"They work, Artie," He turned to his husband, "My glasses really-" He gasped.

Arthur furrowed his brow and stared back. What could he be seeing now?

Alfred let out his held breath and a smile crept across his face, "Oh baby, you're beautiful."

Arthur looked down at himself. The next day was laundry day, so his clothes were covered in all the grime of the past few days. He'd gone swimming yesterday, so he was fairly clean and all, but he hadn't really _bathed _per-se in a little while. He hadn't bothered to brush his hair either, since he just _knew _he was on the edge of a breakthrough. He didn't _think _he looked different from any other day, but he hadn't gone and checked his reflection.

"That green looks so good around you. You're so pretty and glow-y."

Arthur blinked, "You've never seen my aura before?"

"Oh, is that what it is? Man, have I been missing out! I'm so glad I finished these now, then." He smiled without a hint of ulterior motive or even extraneous thoughts. He must have just been living in the moment: enjoying his triumph over his biology right in the face of all magical law.

Arthur couldn't help it. He couldn't even pretend that he had reservations. He just threw his arms around Alfred. He didn't even know why, exactly. He was just compelled to do it. Maybe it was the pride he felt for him. Maybe it was joy by osmosis. Maybe it was the sort of bittersweet feeling that came whenever a taxing situation had ended. It didn't matter really, though, because then Alfred was hugging him back and laughing.

"So long," he said, "It's been so long."

Arthur couldn't be bothered to wonder what Alfred meant, if he even knew. Instead he placed his hand on the base of Alfred's head and guided him forward for a kiss. It was closed-mouthed but still passionate and full of unbridled joy.

"I want to go out," Alfred said breathlessly as he pulled away.

"Okay," Arthur said, not wanting to rob him of his experience of being able to really see for the first time.

Alfred grabbed his hand and dragged him out the door, neither one caring that they didn't have shoes on. And then there they were: Alfred looking in wonderment at every little thing everyone else had taken for granted for so long while Arthur just watched him and tried to keep him from running away. Although, really, he didn't have to worry about that so much anymore, did he? He let go of Alfred's hand and allowed him to go a few steps ahead: letting him move around on his own in the midst of a crowd for quite possibly the first time in his life.

At first Arthur had been trying to share his simple joy, but as he watched Alfred run around to look at all the creatures he'd never seen before he quickly began to contemplate the implications. As far as he knew this was the first time that someone had overcome a loss of their magic. Alfred, or at least his discovery, would be famous and go down in history. How many people were there out there that, like Alfred, had been permanently disabled by their birth-parents clinging to them? Arthur remembered when they were children: on the few occasions that Alfred would be allowed to leave the house he'd always need to be led around by one of his parents or his brother. He probably still would have been if he hadn't snuck out when he was a teenager to try and try to get Arthur to marry him. In fact, Arthur had only really gotten to know him beyond "that lame boy" when he was hired to clean their house (although, as it turned out the job was really more along the lines of "baby-sit Alfred"). No one knew how many people there actually were who were kept hidden because it was too dangerous for them just to leave the house. How many lives did Alfred save just by creating a replacement for the Sight? How many more would he save if more and more of his projects started working?

But even more than that, _Alfred_ had finally overcome one of the barriers to normalcy. One of the issues that had kept Arthur from saying yes earlier was that he knew that he'd have to take care of Alfred forever (up until the day of the wedding his family had never passed up a chance to remind him of that) There were so many little things that Arthur would have to do for him, like start all his fires and heat his baths and _he _always ended up cleaning the house because it took too long for Alfred to go through with a rag and a sack for all the things just sitting around. Arthur knew all of that would be the case when he'd agreed to marry him and no matter what anyone, including Arthur himself, said he had never regretted it for even a second. A million happy normal couples could walk by with children following them and a million people could gawk at the fact that Arthur had survived with his husband needing to be cared for like a child, and Arthur would just shrug his shoulders and point out how damn attractive the boy was as though that was all the compensation he had or needed.

But this would change everything. Now that Alfred could see what he was doing, he could go out alone and not end up walking into some invisible creature and annoying it or its owner. Arthur could send him out now to run errands or even to make deliveries. For the first time in his life, Alfred had the freedom to leave the house whenever he wanted and to go wherever he wanted. And he'd made those glasses in less than a year. How much more would Alfred be able to compensate for eventually? Even now, just with the spectacles, Alfred's major disability was now just a rather large nuisance, because how often did anyone really use anything else?

The two of them ended up sitting in a clearing on the edge of the woods: the same place they had stolen off to when they were courting. Alfred's natural animal attraction kicked in and soon they were surrounded by creatures. Neither of them bothered to pay attention to the mundane animals nearby, instead noticing all of the fantastic ones. Winged rabbits, pixies, and even a couple of brownies came up to them. Flying Mint Bunny, who by this point was almost Arthur's pet, settled on Arthur's lap, but the others all crowded around Alfred, who was petting or cuddling all of them now that they were visible.

Arthur just watched Alfred, stroking Flying Mint Bunny empty-mindedly. Where would they go next? Well, first of all, he had to take Alfred home and reward that beautiful, brilliant, _fantastic _boy in their upstairs bedroom. But _then _what?

Well, there was one thing. Most of his life he'd wanted a baby to call his own. He'd watched all of his friends grow up and take husbands and have whole gaggles of children. He loved playing with them whenever they were around, even though he'd never admit it, but what he had really longed for was one he didn't have to give back in a few hours. That was the biggest thing he'd had to give up for Alfred. However, in the end it was an easy choice. He'd rather be barren with someone he really loved than to have a whole clan with someone he didn't care about. But now…

He wasn't planning on asking right away. He understood that his feelings were clouding his judgement, making him feel too sappy and romantic for his own safety. It just sort of came out later that night. It was hardly his fault. Alfred was too good with his cock and Arthur babbled too much when he was about to come.

"Oh, God," he whimpered.

"I love you," Alfred said, "Love you so much, Artie!"

"_Oh! _Yeah, just like that."

"So hot-"

"Oh marry me! Fuck it, we're already married aren't we?" he moaned, "Let's do it again."

Alfred laughed, "You're so cute."

Laughing during sex, the _gall _of that boy. But he didn't care because then he wrapped those thick, strong fingers around Arthur's cock and started pumping it, "Ah! Oh fuck, you're gonna make me come."

"You started it," he shuddered, "I'm not gonna last long."

"Don't! Come in me," He was loosing it, "I want you to come in me." Oh, shit, he was coming, he knew it was spurting all over Alfred's hand and his own stomach but he just couldn't shut up, "Come in me and make me pregnant and _god, _I''mnotgoingtocarebecauseit'sgoingtobeyourbabyand_mmph-" _

He shut up then because Alfred leaned down and kissed him. Arthur held him close and swallowed every fantastic noise that Alfred made as he came, giving Arthur that squishy warm feeling that he enjoyed in spite of himself. It wasn't until Alfred pulled out and they were lying there side by side that Arthur realized what he had said. He stiffened for a moment but then shook it off. He could pretend it never happened and hope that Alfred just hadn't-

"Arthur," Alfred asked with a bit of panic in his voice, "did I actually just get you pregnant?"

-understood. _Shit. _

"No," Arthur sighed. He couldn't get out of this one, "We have to go and see the faeries and there's a whole ritual involved before a man can bear a child. _If _we ever decide to have a child."

"Oh good," Alfred said, laying back down, "Cause I wanted it to be special. Not- not that this wasn't special, but, well, you know what I mean." There was an awkward silence until Alfred timidly said, "Um, you _did _actually mean that, right?"

Arthur's breath caught in his throat and he made a little choking sound.

"This came up 'cause I have the glasses now, right?" He fiddled with them, and they were digging into his face in a way that didn't look to comfortable.

Hell, it sounded so superficial when he put it that way. Arthur coughed and blushed. "Well, yes, but it's more than that. It's because I feel like we'll be able to handle one now. Together."

Alfred smiled, "You're such a sap, Artie."

Arthur blushed, "Oh, shut it!"

"Nah, I love it," He rubbed his nose against Arthur's. His smile faded, "A baby, though. I donno."

"You can spend time thinking about it, I don't mind if-"

"I like the idea, I think" Arthur blinked, not expecting to be cut off, especially with that as an answer, "But did you mean that part about you having it too?"

Arthur blushed, "Well, I, uh, I," he sighed, "Yeah."

Alfred let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God, I thought you were gonna make me since I'm bigger and stuff."

"Hey! You're only an inch taller than me!"

"Yeah," he rolled so that he was above Arthur on all fours, "But I'm a lot broader."

"That's true, I guess" Arthur said because even he couldn't deny it with Alfred on top of him, looking so big and so powerful and _so_ sexy, "But you probably should know that… that I've wanted to do this for a long time."

"Oh really?" Alfred shifted his weight onto one hand and caressed Arthur's lower belly, "for how long?"

He placed his hand over Alfred's and looked down, "Almost a decade. I've always known I wanted kids, but it took until I was fourteen to know that I wanted…" He trailed off and looked away.

"I hope you'll get over this awkwardness thing by the time you get a bump. You're gonna look _so_ sexy."

"Alfred!"

"It's true," He flopped back over, "I want this too, Artie… Arthur." He grinned, "Mommy."

He leaned forward to press their lips together and finally removed his glasses and set them on the bedside table. Arthur huffed a little and turned around so that Alfred could hold him close. He let himself smile a little bit as they got into position. Alfred was so warm and solid against his back and in Arthur's opinion they fit together flawlessly. They threaded their fingers together and placed them protectively over Arthur's stomach as though there was already a baby inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Most updates will NOT be this fast, I promise. However, this weekend my teachers piled homework on me, which of course means that I'm going to do everything in my power to avoid actually doing it. I've already cleaned out the entire house orz. The first half of this chapter is completely new and I've decided that there are going to be flashbacks throughout the story (there's one here), so I hope I don't confuse anyone.

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><p>You know, Alfred thought to himself, having babies is a hell of a lot more complicated than everyone makes it seem. Part of it was probably because he had skipped the supposedly mandatory class. Of course, nobody thought he'd have kids when he got married, much less when he was fourteen and he was just starting to have feelings for Arthur (not that he ever thought he'd grow the balls to ask him out because as far as he was concerned he'd obviously get turned down). So he just sort of went along with whatever Arthur said, even if it seemed stupid. Like now, for instance.<p>

He had to go and get permission to get pregnant. And he was supposed to go alone. Arthur had explained that it was all so that a healer could as impartially as possible tell him if he would be able to handle it. There shouldn't even have been a question. His Artie was strong and stubborn. Still, there was some special offering he had to get from the priests that they wouldn't give him without being poked and prodded first.

But at least they'd go to see the faeries together in an hour or two. He was glad they wouldn't separate them for that, because it was the _real _important part and not just tradition being annoying.

In spite of how sure he was, he still felt anxious. He wanted this more badly than anything in his life. Having kids was _the _normal thing to do. If he could get that far he would win. He'd beat society. He'd prove that in spite of everything they said and all of their preconceived notions he could succeed and leave a real, significant impact on the world.

He jumped when he heard Arthur at the door, running down the stairs to meet him half way (which turned out to be the kitchen. Well, that's what happens when you live in what used to be a bakery). Arthur didn't look to happy. At all.

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked.

Arthur threw his bag onto the table. There was a soft jingle and a loaf of bread rolled out as the bag collapsed onto the side, "They think I'm too thin," he said, "They told me that if we tried now I'd miscarry."

Suddenly the whole poking and prodding thing seemed a lot less stupid. His mind conjured the image of Arthur clutching a twisted bloody thing (it didn't seem right to call it a baby) to his chest and sobbing. Alfred felt his stomach wrench and dismissed the thought.

"So that's it then?" He asked, as Arthur sat down. He couldn't ask him to go through that. Dammit, he had been so close!

"Hm? Oh no, not at all." He grabbed the loaf of bread and picked at the crust, "They just told me to eat more and come back in a month. I told them that money was a bit tight so they gave me a bit extra and said that I don't have to give anything for collection. They suggested eggs and bread because they're inexpensive, but said that we should get meat and butter if we can afford it." He peeled off a piece and popped it in his mouth.

Alfred sighed and sat down, "That's good. We still have a chance."

Arthur smiled, "You say that like you thought thinness was permanent."

"I donno. It just doesn't feel quite real. I'm just scared that something's gonna come up and make it so that things won't change."

"The only thing that won't change is change. You especially should know that."

"I guess you're right."

Alfred pointedly decided not to continue the conversation. Arthur needed to eat. Actually, he realized, he should get to work on dinner. They still had some beef lying around and he could make it into a pie. He'd make it a bit bigger than usual.

Arthur fell asleep first that night. Alfred was too busy thinking, worrying. He gently felt Arthur's stomach, noticing how painfully thin he actually was. How hadn't he noticed? It was probably a gradual thing. He wasn't that fond of eating most of the time. It was probably Alfred's cooking. He knew he wasn't too good, but it was better than what Arthur made.

He buried his face in his husband's hair. No, Arthur would tell him if it sucked. He never passed up the chance to insult Alfred.

"_Please," _He thought, _"Please just put on weight so this can be _real."

It was just like the time after Arthur had first confessed to loving him back.

His parents and Matt were out of town, still fighting for the government who didn't do jack shit for them, so Arthur was living at their house again. They were still being completely chaste. After all, Arthur had said love, not marriage. They shared a bed, but it was exactly like it had been with Matt. There was no cuddling and little touching. They were side by side for convenience and warmth, not pleasure. Alfred hated it.

"I love you." He said as he and Arthur were sitting at the table, playing cards.

"I love you too," Arthur replied, although the words still didn't come off his tongue easily.

"No, Artie, I _love _you."

He didn't say anything back as he put down his hand, just giving Alfred a look that said he should probably elaborate.

"Look, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, but I don't see you feeling the same way for me. I want a real answer, Arthur."

"Alfred, we can't."

"Well, why not?"

"Just look at us. You're homebound and I'm twenty years old, unskilled, unmarried, and the youngest of four brothers. What kind of future does either of us have alone, much less together? At least you're a pretty face. I'm sure that as soon as this war ends your parents can bring home a high-ranking officer to marry you to. You'd never have to want for anything."

"-Except for you. I don't wanna be a pet, Arthur." He threw his cards on the table and leaned forward.

"You already are, Alfred!"

"And you know how much I hate it!" Alfred sighed, leaned back in his chair, and gave Arthur his most pained expression, "Please. Just let me touch you. Just once."

"No."

"But Arthur-"

"I said no," he stood, "Alfred, if I do anything now, we'll both regret it."

"You might if you leave me, but I won't. Not ever."

"This conversation is over and my answer is unchanged."

"But please-"

He just shook his head and walked away.

"Arthur!"

There was no answer. That night Arthur slept in Alfred's parents' room like he was supposed to. It was probably for the better because Alfred didn't want anyone to see him cry.

Back fully in the present, Alfred clutched his husband's warm body. But he had been right back then. All it had taken to get Arthur to say yes was his parents reaffirming that he should have said no and Alfred coming to see him even after Mom, Dad, and Matt came home. He told himself that this would be the same. It would all be okay.

He'd just have to be the best husband ever and buy all the food Arthur needed and then some. The next day he would go to see his parents. Mom would be overexcited about getting grandkids and help him out. Everything would be fine. He'd do whatever it took for things to be fine.

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><p>Arthur was very excited but also utterly terrified as he and Alfred walked down the path to the faeries a month later. This time healer and said he'd gotten more than big enough. He felt a little bitter that he was fatter than necessary (it wasn't that he was uncomfortable with his body. It was just that he'd started to have an actual belly and Alfred had become quite fond of playing with it, which he didn't actually like no matter how much it turned him on), but it would probably only help things. Besides, he was only going to get bigger and bigger until the baby was born so he'd have to get used to it eventually.<p>

He felt like he was wound so tight he would snap. He was finally going to have his baby and he had heard that sex under the faeries' spell was like no other, but on the other hand, he'd never dealt firsthand with the faeries. Routine as it may have been for_ them_, it was still new for him, and even though he'd asked around he still didn't know that he actually understood what he was in for. Alfred seemed to be feeling the same thing, judging by his expression.

Then, eventually, the trail that they were following widened into a clearing. Along the edge of the clearing there stood ominous shadows with glowing yellow eyes. Arthur's instincts told him to just drop the offerings and run. He was terrified of them, as he should rightly have been. Alfred was shivering.

"It's alright," Arthur whispered, "They're just shadows."

"No," Alfred said, "No they're not. Out of the corner of my eyes I can see past the dark. They're monsters, Artie."

Arthur blinked. Of course, he didn't have the sight when he wasn't looking through the glass, so he'd see through the faeries' glamour then. He knew what they actually looked like. The poor boy would be having nightmares tonight He gave Alfred's hand a tight squeeze before stepping forward.

"I am Arthur from the house of Kirkland. My husband Alfred and I have come to request that you give me the ability to bear him a child. We've brought the customary gifts." He held out the basket the priests had given him.

An ominous voice filled the clearing, "Bring your offerings to the stump in the center."

The two men moved together, probably because they were both too scared to do anything else. However, as soon as everything was on the stump, Arthur felt a sharp pain in his lower abdomen, which soon grew into pure agony. He let out a cry and fell to his knees.

"What's going on?" Alfred demanded, crouching down next to him, he was glaring into the woods, as thought he was daring creatures that could destroy the world to try to hurt Arthur again.

"Don't make them mad," Arthur whispered, "It's okay. My organs are rearranging themselves to make room for the new ones. It just hurts more than I thought it would."

The pain started to subside, just leaving him with a dull ache in his belly. Alfred never moved, still looking at him with concern shining in his eyes. Arthur gave him a weak smile and got to his feet.

"Thank you all," he said to the faeries, "We'll leave you in peace until it's time for the child to be born."

He bowed, prompting Alfred to copy the gesture and led them from the woods.

"Holy shit, that was scary!" Alfred said once they were out of ear shot. Arthur nodded.

"So what happens next?" Alfred asked, "We go home and get it on?" a disgusting smirk appeared on his face.

Arthur groaned in annoyance, "I'm not going to get pregnant just like that, you know."

Alfred frowned, "Why not?"

"It takes the body time to prepare. It takes several days even for real women."

"How will we know when it's time, then?"

Arthur shrugged, "It's hard to say. From what I've heard we'll both have a higher sex drive than normal, but it can be rather subtle."

"So we've gotta guess?"

"Well," Arthur put a finger to his lower lip, pretending to think about it, "We could just have sex every day and see if I start menstruating in about a month."

Alfred grinned and looped one arm around Arthur's waist, "I like that idea."

"If you pick me up and carry me to the bedroom I swear that I will cook all three meals until our child is born."

"But, _Arthur, _you'd poison it!"

"Then it'll be an awfully long time, then, won't it?"

Alfred gave him a look of mock horror but didn't move his hand. As long as he didn't try to lift him, Arthur decided that that was alright. That didn't mean he couldn't grumble about it, though.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Smut, smut, smut. Oh, and some more smut for variety. Also, to run the risk of sounding desperate, reviews are my lifeblood. They make me happy and more likely to update quickly. So, please, if you liked it leave a comment. Even if I don't reply I read them all and they make me smile :3

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><p>Alfred hummed happily to himself as he walked back to the house. He felt so proud of himself. This was the fifth time he'd gone to run errands, but the first that he'd actually done all the shopping alone. Arthur was still at home (probably still sleeping), but Alfred had all the food for the next few days.<p>

"Artie!" Alfred called, as he climbed the stairs. "I'm back! It's still hard to find fresh vegetables this time of year, so I got us lots of potatoes and dried stuff. I figure that I could make some soup and-"

"Just shut up and get in here!"

Oh shit, he was in trouble. He didn't clear the trip with Arthur before hand, but he had been so excited and they needed the ingredients for dinner. Alfred decided that he had better go face him, because otherwise he'd be in even more trouble.

"What's wrong, Arthur?" Alfred asked, peering around the doorframe so that his vital organs were still protected by the wall.

Arthur was sitting on the bed, arms and legs crossed. He was glaring at Alfred with such intensity that he was surprised that the wall he was hiding behind hadn't burst into flame.

"Where were you?"

"We needed food," Alfred said, "Remember I was planning on going this morning anyway? It was already pretty late, and you were still alseep so I thought it'd be okay if-"

"Oh, fine," Arthur said, raising a hand to cut him off. Even though he still had a serious look on his face, his anger had obviously evaporated. Ha! He was happy for him and was just being all Serious-Artie so that he didn't have to admit it, "But next time, wait until I'm awake. It's a little… demoralizing for me to wake up next to air when I'm supposed to be next to you."

Alfred felt his heart flutter. That was one of the many things that he loved about Arthur: those almost-confessions of love. It was just so cute. It was about that point when Alfred realized that Arthur was stark-naked. The fact that he looked really horny probably helped him to the realization. He took a step closer.

"_Play it smooth, Freddie," _He thought to himself, _"Be _really _smooth." _ He kept coming closer, trying to walk in a way that was sexy but not so sexy that Arthur would realize what he was doing. "So, now I'm back. You wanna go eat breakfast or-"

"No!" Arthur said too quickly. There was a short silence and then he blushed.

Well, maybe he didn't have to be so subtle. Alfred sat down on the edge of the bed and peered back at Arthur from over his shoulder. "Do you wanna stay here?"

"Yes…" Arthur admitted, looking away.

God, he was radiant that day. His hair seemed to be tousled just right and his eyes were shining with such intensity. His entire body was tensed like some sort of large cat, just waiting for the right moment to spring. And now that Alfred was pretty much next to him, he could smell him. Mostly, he just smelled like he always did but there was something else in there that was just… really, really attractive. Alfred turned around so that he could stare straight at Arthur.

"Do you wanna have sex?" He asked, blushing (he'd never had to ask so bluntly before. Not when he really meant it.)

Arthur turned bright red and he peered back at Alfred from beneath his thick eyelashes, "Yeah."

"Good," Alfred said, leaning against Arthur's back, "So do I." To try to make himself feel a little less awkward, he licked Arthur's ear, making his husband shudder.

"Oh, Alfred," He breathed. He got down on his hands and knees, looking back over his shoulder when his husband didn't follow, "Come on, I need you inside of me."

"That's a really weird spot," Alfred said, "Turn around so that when we go down afterwards we're gonna have our heads in the pillows, okay?"

Arthur rolled his eyes but started moving. Alfred pulled off his clothes as fast as possible, only getting tangled in his hose a little bit, and then grabbed the slick from atop the bedside table. He got behind Arthur and spread the oil on three of his fingers. Arthur watched the entire time, desire clear on his face. Alfred gulped. Dear Lord that was hot. Even with Arthur just looking at him like that he felt his cock start to stir. He slid one finger into his husband and Arthur let out a sigh and bucked into it, making the digit slip all the way inside.

"Holy shit, Artie," He said.

Arthur was never that easy. Never. They made love all the time, but there was so much teasing between them, they were always trying to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible until neither of them could take it anymore. But now it was all about getting right to the actual fucking part. It was really unlike Arthur to be so desperate. It was new and different and really fucking hot.

Alfred slipped the second finger in and immediately started stretching him. Arthur whined and ground backwards, trying to fuck himself on Alfred's fingers. It took all Alfred had to just put the last finger in and not just shove his cock in instead. He was sure that Arthur would take it. But he didn't want to hurt his Arthur, not if he wanted more of this kind of sex later.

"Good enough!" Arthur grunted, attempting to push Alfred's fingers out.

Alfred nodded, even though Arthur couldn't see him, and slicked his cock with his free hand. Then, as quickly as possible, he pulled out his fingers and thrusted into Arthur. Both of them let out a groan. Shit, his Arthur was so hot, so _tight. _He couldn't have prepared him well enough. Any thoughts that coherent were pushed from his head, though, as he felt his husband's muscles twitching around him. Alfred couldn't do anything but begin to slowly move in and out.

But it wasn't enough; he needed to go faster, needed to go harder. He leaned forward until he was basically laying on Arthur's back. No longer worried about staying upright, Alfred could focus on ramming his hips in and out as quickly as possible. Arthur sang beneath him, writhing and letting out all sorts of quiet squeaks and whimpers. Alfred was probably making similar noises, but he couldn't be bothered to worry about it. He was too busy claiming what was his: his husband, his lover, his hot wet hole to fuck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur's ear poking out from behind his hair. Not caring about why, Alfred leaned forward and grabbed it in his teeth, tugging on it. Arthur let out a cry, but shook him off with a growl. Alfred let go, but he still needed something to bite. He settled on trying to gnaw through the juncture between Arthur's neck and shoulder. Arthur groaned and spread his legs further, letting Alfred go even deeper.

After a while, Alfred pulled away and looked at the mark on Arthur's neck, all bright and shiny. It still wasn't enough, though. He turned his head and latched on to Arthur's other shoulder, which he seemed to enjoy judging from the way he whimpered softly. Softly, he remembered, because Arthur was never quiet. Ever.

Alfred had made love to Arthur more times than he could count, but it was different this time. He was so soft and accepting. His ass had loosened up with Alfred's incessant thrusts and was warm and eager, loving every single thrust. Delightful little noises slipped from his mouth whenever Alfred slid back into him. Alfred was holding him up at the hips now because his legs were spread so wide that otherwise he'd be just lying on the bed. His top half was already buried in the blankets, but Alfred still needed his bottom. Arthur was bent and red and twisted, drooling a bit and not questioning and instructing Alfred at all. He was the picture of complete submission, and with how different it was from the Arthur that more or less led even when he was flat on his back, Alfred wasn't going to last long. He lost some of his rhythm, thrusts becoming uneven and shallow.

"Fuck, Alfred," Arthur said, "I need... Deeper. Bury deep, and come. I need your come."

Oh, God, Alfred couldn't say no to that, especially since it was the only demand he'd had since they started. He thrust himself in so that he was buried balls-deep in his husband and came, painting his insides white.

Arthur was his, Alfred thought. His shoulders and the inside of his ass were marked, but every single inch was Alfred's. No one else was going to touch him; no one was going to hurt him. Alfred was going to make sure of that. Arthur knew it too, and he loved it. It was the sort of ownership welcomed and, in a way, reciprocated. After all, Arthur was the only one that Alfred was going to protect; the only one he was going to love. Really, they belonged to each other, but the only part of that that was going through Alfred's mind while he was coming was, "My Arthur. Mine."

As soon as Alfred had let out his first spurt, Arthur came hard. He let out a cry and closed tightly around Alfred, who at that point had been attempting to ride out his orgasm. At that point he gave up and let himself get carried away in the waves of pleasure, feeling nothing but white-hot ecstasy coursing through his veins, completely covering his world.

He just sat there for a good minute before pulling out and rolling off of his now-collapsed husband. He looked at Arthur's face, admiring his expression of absolute bliss. He placed one hand on his Arthur's cheek. He felt warm and limp and like everything in the world was perfect. He never wanted to leave.

"Love you," He whispered.

"Love you too," Arthur replied sleepily, "You're incredible. Best I've ever felt. Fantastic." His eyelids were flickering, as though he couldn't decide whether he wanted to wake up or go back to sleep.

At about that point, Alfred's brain seemed to wake up, because he was struck with an idea. He pushed himself up, "Hey, Artie?"

"Yes?" He asked, opening one eye.

"D'you think this is it?"

"What's it?"

"This."

"What?"

"_This." _

"What's _this, _you absolute moron?_" _Arthur asked, propping himself up and glaring at him.

"I- I mean, it's been a week since we went to see the faeries, right?"

"Oh," Arthur said, eyes going wide. He just stared at Alfred, "Oh. I… Maybe." He rolled over and looked down the length of his body, as though already trying to see their baby.

"I don't think we need to worry about it too much," Alfred said, "Let's just try to have sex more often. It's not like there's anything else we can do."

"True," Arthur said, rolling back onto his belly, "But I'd like to do _something." _

"How about get dressed and have breakfast? We can try again later today even."

"I wish that we could just know some how right away when it works."

"Why? That way we wouldn't have an excuse to go at it all the time."

Arthur pulled him close, "For once, you have a point."

"Stupid old man," Alfred huffed.

"Bratty little upstart," Arthur replied, leaning in to kiss him.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **This is the first chapter of major overhaul. I believe I ended up rewriting and replacing the entire thing XD

* * *

><p>Arthur walked into the kitchen to see Alfred bent over the table, sobbing.<p>

"What's wrong, love?" He asked, allowing himself to use the pet name since his lover was obviously distressed.

(Lover: he shouldn't have used that word. They hadn't had sex and, as far as Arthur was concerned they never would. He would allow hand-holding and snuggling in bed but that was all. Alfred needed to save himself for marriage. Arthur hated the idea of him being objectified like that, but that was just what happened when you were weak but beautiful, or the youngest son, or part of a powerful and wealthy family, and Alfred was all three)

Alfred sniffled and looked over to Arthur, forcing a smile, "The war's over. We won. It's fantastic. Mom sent a letter."

Arthur took the piece of parchment Alfred offered him. The facts were simple: their army had captured a fort and now controlled some area miles away from where he and Alfred were, so Alfred's parents were coming home. Matthew had been assigned to stay for a while longer, but that didn't matter. Arthur was going to be dismissed, which meant that he and Alfred wouldn't see each other anymore.

Arthur bit his lip. He'd have to move back in with his father. (No, he reminded himself, with his _brother. _James officially owned the farm now. Dad gave it to him when he got married) But what choice did he have? He'd started doing working on improving some magical techniques: purely theoretical stuff to keep him entertained, but it was nothing that would sustain him. Who would buy his plans? They were just ideas, not an actual invention or service he could provide.

"Well," he said, "We knew it would have to end eventually."

"But why?" Alfred asked, "Why does it have to?"

"There's no reason for your parents to pay me to sit around your house while they're here," Arthur said, trying to make the situation lighter, but Alfred would have none of it.

"What do you expect me to do without you?"

"Survive," Arthur said, "Same as I'll have to."

And then it was months later. He'd just woken up to find a single red rose sitting on his windowsill, the same as every day for the last week. He had quite a collection in an extra mug on his bedside table. His brother was teasing him about having a secret boyfriend ("Good thing too. You can get yer arse out of my house.")

"Another one?" Dad asked over dinner, "This is getting ridiculous. And you don't know who's leaving them?"

"No. You know that in spite of your best efforts I've never _had _anyone."

"Oh," James said, "so you _didn't _spend all that time corrupting that brat you were baby sitting. Good for you, I was hoping that my own flesh and blood had better standards."

"His name is Alfred," Arthur said, "And he was less of an asshole on his worst day than you are on your best."

"Oh, so you _did _seduce a little handicapped kid?"

"No! You obviously don't know what you're talking about, so shut the fuck up!"

"Arthur," his dad said, testily, "I can see you're worked up now, but just give it time. You'll get over it and with all the boys coming home, I'm sure someone will-"

"Is that all I am to you? You don't need me so now you're going to throw me out?"

"Arthur," James said, voice more serious than usual, "Give dad a break. He just wants what's best for you."

"I don't care! Do something useful for once in your life and leave me alone!" He looked back and forth between them, "I don't know why I came back. It was stupid of me. I'll go off on my own: build a house somewhere far, far away and live off of fish or something so I never have to see you again!"

He ran back to his room and slammed the door. Then he smacked himself in the forehead. Dammit, why had he done that? James and his father had been so good to him, and then he'd gone and done that. And why? Because they had said something rude about him and Alfred. He wasn't supposed to care. He was supposed to get over the boy and go on with his life.

Fuck, he really _did _allow himself to fall in love with him, didn't he? Even if he _did_ have an infamously short fuse, no friendship was enough to make him do that.

He threw himself on the bed and curled up in a ball. At some point he'd have to apologize. Even if he really didn't want to.

There was a rap on his window. He got up and opened the shutters, curious.

"Hi!" Alfred said brightly, clambering inside.

"What the- Alfred, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Alfred, who by that point had pulled himself inside and was straightening up, smiled and said, "Just thought I'd pop over."

"Your house is three miles away!"

Alfred shrugged, "I walked."

"You can't see!"

He scowled, "I'm not blind! Besides, I had Hana bring me over. He missed me while mom and dad were gone."

"But you- you can't just-"

"Why not?" he walked over and took Arthur's face in his hands, "I wanted to see you."

Arthur was overtaken by the sweetness of the gesture, "You've been the one leaving me flowers."

Alfred smiled, "Yeah. There's a bush in the woods nearby and I've been cutting one every day."

It was dizzying to be this close, to see his eyes shining brightly in the dim light of the bedroom, to feel his hot damp breath on his face-

"No," He shook it off, "This isn't a game, Alfred."

Alfred smiled and knelt before him, "It never was to me." He pulled a small pouch from his belt and gave it to Arthur, "Before you say anything, I want you to know that I earned all the money myself. I don't know if you've heard around town, but I've been sort of doing a little bit of business."

Arthur opened the bag and found something smooth and metallic, oh _no, _Alfred, no. He felt like he would cry as he pulled out the little gold rose with the small emerald in the middle suspended on a fine chain.

"I've been fixing a lot of stuff." Alfred continued, "Little things mostly, but people have brought be farm equipment too. I'm pretty good with my hands when I put my mind to it. It's taken a lot of time, but I know roses are your favorite flowers and the emerald reminded me of your eyes, so when I saw it I knew I had to get it."

"Alfred, I can't accept this. I just can't."

"Please, even if you don't want to marry me, just take it. I want you to have it."

"I do, though!" He said. He felt the tears running down his face, but he just couldn't stop, "Dammit, Alfred, I want you, it's just-"

"We'll be fine," Alfred said, standing, "Trust me. Trust _us." _He took Arthur's hands in his, "Please, I know it'll be alright. We'll find a way."

And, dammit, he couldn't look at that face. Fuck, he really believed it, didn't he? Every single word he was saying. Maybe… maybe that was enough to make Arthur believe too. He smiled, just a little bit. His lips were twitching, threatening to make him sob. He leaned forward and-

Arthur sat bolt-upright and papers flew everywhere. He looked around, confused, only to see himself surrounded by the familiar sight of his study.

Oh, that was right. He'd just set his head down for a moment not long after lunch, just to rest his eyes. He must have drifted off. With the dark orange hue of the light spilling into his room it must have been late afternoon. He stretched and worked the kinks in his neck. He'd been so tired lately and it felt like no matter how long he napped it was never enough. Even now he wanted to drag himself to bed and curl up for another snooze. But no, he had to stay awake. Alfred was going to have supper ready soon.

Hmm, supper and Alfred. He didn't know which of the two sounded more appealing. On the one hand he was rather hungry (it seemed all he had time for these days was eating and sleeping. He usually didn't eat much, but recently he had been sneaking downstairs to snack between meals. He blamed the healers for getting him into the habit of eating too much and Alfred for thinking it was cute when he came over and would stare plaintively at whatever he was cooking until he gave him some) but on the other… He smiled as his hand went for his necklace, rubbing the little gold pendant Alfred had given to him. He wanted to cuddle, he realized to his slight disgust, to hold his husband for no purpose other than to enjoy holding him.

Arthur stood and started the trek down to the kitchen (because at this time of day both food _and _Alfred would be down there).

He looked down at the rose and wondered if his affectionate mood had something to do with the dream. He'd had such vivid dreams recently, all so crisp and real and every single one of them had either revolved around Alfred or danger or both. At least this one was a real memory, even if a bit distorted. His arguments with his family had been smaller and less direct, the roses had been more intermittent (probably whatever nights that Alfred could sneak away), and the proposal was all wrong. However, he tucked the rose back under his tunic so that it sat heavy against his breast, he couldn't help but think he liked this way better. He still regretted that he had turned Alfred down the day he marched over in the mid-afternoon, even if they did have a huge emotional reunion one night when Arthur couldn't live with the guilt and loneliness anymore.

As he reached the stairs, though, Arthur realized that something wasn't quite right. He didn't smell anything cooking, and at this hour Alfred would have to have started the fire and probably would have _something _in the oven. Maybe he had gotten distracted.

He knocked on the door to Alfred's study. Even if nothing had been started, he was sure that they'd be able to throw something together to feed themselves. He just let himself in and found Alfred facing away from the door, dusting off a bookshelf. Arthur smiled. It was so cute how hard he would try.

"Hello, there," Arthur said.

Alfred jumped and turned around, "Uh… hi," he said.

Arthur frowned. Alfred was smiling, but it was one of those smiles that were covering sadness.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked.

"N-nothing. Nothing at all."

"Alfred."

"I'm fine, really," He forced his unhappiness further back, "I was just thinking really hard."

"Oh yes, about what?" He walked inside and shut the door behind him to signal Alfred that he wouldn't escape.

Alfred shrugged, "Ya know, life. The universe. Everything. Just those stupid little tangents that never did anyone any good."

Arthur frowned. Normally during those rare times that Alfred was philosophical he would be exuberant to have someone to share his musings with. And the way he was talking about himself… But Arthur couldn't attack directly. Arguing with Alfred was every bit as useful as trying to kick down a brick wall and not nearly as satisfying. Well, the best way to Alfred's mind was through his heart, so when he turned back to his work Arthur snuck up from behind and embraced him.

"Come on," Alfred said, "I've got work to do."

"It's plenty clean, dear," Arthur leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Alfred looked back at him with confusion, picking up on the unusual tenderness, "Look, I told you nothing's wrong."

"And I believe you," a lie for a lie, "Can't a man just appreciate his husband?"

"Are you in one of those lovey-dovey moods again?"

Arthur scowled, "You weren't so dismissive of my 'lovey-dovey moods' when I was spread-eagled on the bed last night."

"Yeah, because I wanted it then. I'm just not feeling it today."

"You're right." Arthur let go and turned him around before pressing Alfred up against a wall, "You're not feeling it today, but you _have _felt it every day since you started fancying me five years ago. You're not yourself and I need to know why."

"Look, I'm okay. No, no, don't give me that look! It's just dumb."

"If it's made you like this it's certainly not dumb."

"Yeah it is and-" he suddenly looked at the window, "Shit it's late, I have to go make dinner!"

"Don't you dare."

"Come on, aren't you hungry?"

"Not enough to let you go. I'll live the five minutes extra it takes for you to tell me what's bothering you."

"As if you don't know. You started it." He ducked under Arthur's arms and escaped.

"You're acting like a child!" he chased after Alfred, "And I started nothing. You seemed perfectly content at lunch, and I haven't seen you since then!"

Alfred stopped in his tracks and glared back at him, "Look, I'm trying to be useful for once in my life and now you're stopping me?"

Oh, bollocks, is that what this was about? Hell, Arthur thought that they were done with all this. "I've told you a million times Alfred, you do plenty! Besides, weren't you going to talk to some of the peddlers that were in town to see if you could sell some of your glasses? How did that go?"

Alfred looked at him like he was an idiot, "I told you that once I let one of their kids try it on to make sure it was the real deal they promised they'd pay me a silver per pair."

"See? You're not useless. Even if you don't believe _me _that's proof."

"You said that I didn't know what I was talking about and told me to shut up."

"Alfred," he said very slowly, "I haven't seen you."

"Arthur," The idiot was copying his tone exactly, "I came in to talk to you and you were hunched over your desk working."

Arthur stared at him for a moment before it clicked, "Alfred, I was asleep."

"You didn't sound asleep."

"But I was. Just after lunch I set my head down and I've only been awake for maybe five minutes."

"You fell asleep at your desk? Why'd you do that?"

"I didn't mean to!" His voice was rougher than he thought it would be and he felt a tightness in his throat, "I've just been so tired lately and I just wind up sleeping. Yesterday I fell asleep behind the counter, and the day before that I was reading an old book at the kitchen table and slept for two hours." He sniffled, "And whenever that happens I always have these striking dreams that terrify me or completely entrance me. But I'd still rather sleep because whenever I'm awake I feel dizzy and queasy and I keep getting headaches and I'm crying aren't I?" He touched his cheek and felt tears.

Alfred walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Uh, there there?" He said, "I donno, this is kind of weird."

"Exactly! But I love you, I really do, Alfred. You're a wonderful human being and I don't know what I'd do without you, so don't leave me. And I… I… I need a fucking hug."

Alfred wrapped his arms around him but still seemed really confused. Arthur didn't care. He just needed a shoulder to cry on, and so he buried his face in Alfred's and started sobbing.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, words muffled in Alfred's shoulder, "In my dream I was telling Dad and James off for not letting me marry you."

"It's okay," Alfred patted him gently, "I can't blame you for what you do in your sleep. Really, Artie. You're fine."

"I just wish-" He rubbed his tears away on Alfred's tunic, "I just wish that I knew what was going on."

"What do you mean? Isn't this just because you're pregnant?"

Arthur took a step back and looked down at himself, "D-do _you _think I am?"

"Well, with how much sex we've had over the past month and the fact that you haven't started bleeding yet, I would think so."

"But," he pressed his fingers against his belly. It felt no different than he had the day they'd gone to see the faeries, "Shouldn't I know? It's happening to me after all."

Alfred shrugged, "Maybe you were looking too hard, or maybe you just have to go through it once to know. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. So… uh… are you gonna be all teary and tired and stuff until the baby's born?"

"Oh God, I hope not."

An awkward silence filled the room. This wasn't like Arthur had imagined, where Alfred would come home and Arthur would be waiting for him wearing only a cloak. He would go and whisper "I'm pregnant" in his ear and Alfred would let out a groan at those words. Then he'd lead them back to their room and they'd make love, with lots of kissing and whispers of words of devotion and Alfred would stop now and then to rub and kiss at Arthur's still-smooth stomach. Then they would fall asleep sated and so very in love.

Instead, they were just both standing there, and Alfred had been the one to figure it out. There probably would be no sex either. Alfred was probably still secretly upset. Arthur was a mess mentally and he probably looked terrible too. Also, he was starting to feel queasy again and Alfred touching his stomach would probably make it worse. He was certain that even if there was a mood, throwing up during sex would kill it.

Finally, Alfred opened his mouth.

"Well, let's just try to get you more relaxed. I heard that helps." He took Arthur's hand and led him back up to the bedroom, "Why don't you call over Flying Mint Bunny? I'll give you a massage and we can talk for a while. Now that you know this is all 'cause we're actually gonna have a baby you don't need to freak out. And-"

"Holy Shit," Arthur said, the weight of the revelation finally hitting him, "I'm pregnant. In eight months we're going to be parents. God, Alfred, we have so much to get ready! We're going to need to get a cradle and clothes and we're going to need to turn something into another bedroom and-"

"Ssh," Alfred said, pressing a finger to Arthur's lips, "We can worry about that later. For now, let's just worry about you, okay? You're important."

"Okay," Arthur said, giving up, but only because that massage sounded really good. He'd have plenty of time to think about the child he was carrying. After all, now that he knew what his symptoms meant he wasn't likely to forget about him any time soon.

Once they reached their bedroom, Arthur eased himself face down on the bed. It was so soft and warm. He centered himself on his pillow and closed his eyes. If he hadn't just had a long nap he'd want to go back to sleep. Alfred crawled on after him and sat on his thighs. He started rubbing Arthur's shoulders gently.

"Holy hell you're tight. No wonder you were crabby."

"Mmm."

"Don't worry, I'll get it for you."

"Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"You're not just doing this to feel like you're useful, are you?"

Alfred shifted uncomfortably but didn't answer. That meant yes, which wasn't want Arthur wanted. Arthur wanted to tell him to stop, that he didn't need to worry about being useful, that Arthur loved him and always would love him. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and hold his husband and remind him of the fact that Arthur had picked him for a reason and a damn good one at that.

But he couldn't. His throat closed up and he couldn't say a word. He gently petted Alfred's leg, hoping that he somehow miraculously understood.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Completely new chapter this time :D (also known as: padding so that I make it to 50K) Also, if you missed that little bit about Hanatamago in the last chapter, America's parents are Sweden and Finland. I gave him Sweden's last name because it wouldn't make sense if it was Jones and it's a pain to do Finland's on an American keyboard.

**James=Scotland**

* * *

><p>It was when the leaves were starting to change and Arthur was entering his second trimester that they decided they had better tell his family that he was pregnant. (Alfred's parents already knew, since he had to tell them early on to get a little extra money for food and baby stuff. Mom had given him a hug that threatened to break his bones, Matt had freaked out that his brother was going to have a kid first, and Dad had just given him one of those rare "I'm really proud of you and I love you, but I can't actually say it" smiles. It was a very good day.)<p>

Arthur was adapting well. They'd learned that if he was in a mood or feeling ill just pushing against his stomach lightly would usually calm him down, so other than the fact he was eating and sleeping more than usual and that he was still a little extra submissive he was pretty much back to normal. He'd put on more weight but he still wasn't showing at all, which was a shame. Alfred wanted to see his Artie all swollen and heavy, petting his stomach and needing help to get things from high shelves and all that stuff. Soon, he just kept telling himself, soon. (Besides, he got plenty of kinks he didn't even know he had fulfilled by Arthur's new behaviors as it was. He was damn sexy when he was eating and adorable when he slept, and seeing Arthur as a submissive bottom was new and exciting and sexy in a whole different way than seeing Arthur as someone completely in control that demanded obedience, especially when his new metaphorical softness was combined with his new literal softness.)

But even if Arthur didn't have any obvious symptoms to show that he was pregnant the beginning of month four was still the traditional time to tell the rest of the family, so the two of them still took the long, long walk out to Arthur's family's farm. When they got there and knocked on the door David, their oldest nephew, let them in. (Alfred thought he was nine, but he wasn't sure. At that time the kid was born he was spending all of his time in his room reading and had no idea that Arthur even existed. Man that was weird to think about)

"Dad!" He shouted, "Uncle Arthur is here!"

"Did you throw things at him until he ran away like I told you to?" James's voice from deep inside the house answered.

"The best you can teach your son to do is throw things?" Arthur shouted back at his brother, "You're a failure of a father _and _a coward."

"So you _did _come over," James swaggered into the room with the kind of cocky grin usually reserved for young men trying to look cool for someone.

"Is Dad home?" Arthur asked, inspecting his fingernails to show that he didn't care.

"Yeah. You need to talk to him?"

"Actually, we'd like to talk to _all _of you," Alfred said.

"-Except for Francis," Arthur added, "If I ever want to speak to your husband I'll commit suicide so I may face death with dignity."

"Honey! Dad! Artie wants to talk to you!"

"_Arse." _

James just smiled as Arthur's dad and Francis came in, both looking at Alfred and Arthur curiously.

"Let's sit down," Alfred said, "This might be a while."

"I'd rather it doesn't," said Arthur, who was in the middle of having a glare-off with Francis. (He had, on multiple occasions, claimed that James had married him simply to annoy Arthur into leaving as quickly as possible. After all, the two had supposedly bonded as children over their mutual love of picking on him. This, of course, ignored the fact that Francis had helped them more than anyone else in Alfred's family over the years and Arthur returned the favor as often as possible, but that was just how the Kirkland family worked. Alfred secretly believed that it was a sign of deep affection if one of them claimed to hate you.)

Alfred ignored Arthur's grumblings and dragged him over to the table.

"Should I go?" David asked Arthur.

Arthur thought about it for a moment before finally answering, "Just for a little while. I'll talk to you and your brothers later."

David huffed but left without argument.

"I take it back," Arthur said, "You've trained him about as well as the dogs. You're not a failure after all."

"So did you just come over to play a rousing game of insult-tag?" Francis asked, "Because you will lose."

"No," Arthur said, "We actually have some rather important news."

"And what _is _that news?" Arthur's Dad asked.

Arthur blushed and opened his mouth a couple of times, but no sound came out. Poor guy just couldn't spit it out. That meant it was time for Alfred to come to the rescue!

"We're having a baby," he said.

"What?" James asked.

"Well," Now that all of them were staring at him and Alfred could feel James's stare boring into him (he swore there was something about those huge green eyes that bypassed every defense you have). If he didn't just go and say it he'd be as silent as Arthur in a minute. "Like I said, we're having a baby. He's going to be born in the spring."

"Is that going to be alright?" Francis asked, "I do obviously trust Nathan and all the other healers with my life, but isn't it dangerous? I mean, you don't have your magic…"

"I have enough to get by," Alfred said, putting on his serious-face, "We talked about this, remember? I can totally take care of Artie when he needs me to and now that I'm selling glasses to the peddlers that come through we've got more than enough money to handle a kid."

"That's not what I mean," Francis said, coming around the table and pressing a hand to Alfred's belly, "If you carry a child to term would it still have its powers, or would being in contact with you for so long stunt them?"

Oh, well… Awkward-turtle moment right there. And even though he understood that Francis came from a very touchy-feely family, he wasn't entirely comfortable with his hand being there. Alfred looked over to Arthur, hoping to be saved.

"Actually," Arthur said, clearing his throat, "I'm the one who's pregnant, not Alfred."

"Arthur," His father said, much more softly than he usually spoke, "Are you sure that that's a good idea?"

"It was my choice," He said, more firmly than Alfred would have expected, "And I wanted this. I _have _wanted this. You know not to try to talk me out of things that I really want."

"You're as stubborn as your mother was," Arthur's dad said, sighing and propping his head up on the back of his hand.

Arthur smiled, "I'll take that as a compliment."

The atmosphere felt awfully tense right then and Alfred had the feeling that everyone there knew something that he didn't. Well, it was a little weird that all of Arthur's brothers were dads and he'd chosen to be a mom, but that shouldn't have been enough to warrant that sort of reaction. So Alfred just used his old standby: pretending that he didn't notice.

"We're actually saving up a little bit right now because we're going to have to redo a room upstairs soon. We've got an extra we've been using for storage and we're probably going to sell some of the junk in there, but pretty soon me and Artie are probably gonna have to share a study. Now _that'll _be interesting."

Alfred went right on talking, and eventually everyone else joined in the conversation and the mood lightened up significantly. They ended up getting to stay for dinner and everything was nice and friendly.

Alfred was just glad that this had gone over better than when he'd confronted them about marrying Arthur.

He had _thought_ it would go over perfectly. After all, Alfred's parents had easily accepted it, so why wouldn't Arthur's? Of course, he had never actually _met _Arthur's family. Arthur had told him stories, of course, but Alfred had just assumed that he was exaggerating. After all, he was the youngest of four so he _had _to get picked on all the time.

Then Alfred actually had to talk to Mr. Kirkland.

"_It's alright," _Alfred thought to himself as he looked up at his future father-in-law, _"He's not any bigger or scarier than Dad." _So he took a deep breath and said, "I know you don't know me, but I'm Alfred Oxenstierna. I wanna marry your son."

For a minute they stared each other down and Alfred was half-expecting Mr. Kirkland to challenge him to a duel or make him go on some quest for the privilege of marrying his son, just like in all those fairytales. Instead, he just laughed. Like really, gasping for breath, leaning against the wall, kind of laughed. Alfred frowned. What did he do wrong?

After a few false starts, Mr. Kirkland managed to stand and talk to them, "Really, Arthur, I know you like going out of your way to trick us, but it's too obvious if you do things like this."

"It's not a joke!" Alfred shouted, even if he had the sinking feeling that maybe it was.

"Oh, poor boy," Mr. Kirkland said, tapping him on the shoulder, "It's okay. You can give up."

"But I-"

"I'm not sure what he offered you to take part in this, but I'll make him fulfill his end of the deal. You've done enough."

"Dad," Arthur said, already steaming, "Does this look fake to you?" He took off his necklace and threw it at his father to inspect, "I don't care what you say; we're getting married."

Mr. Kirkland turned it over in his thick fingers, looking at the details and the insert and everything before looking back up at his son, "Arthur, are you sure about this?"

Arthur just gave him a Look. His dad stared back, but since his eyes were light blue instead of dark green and he didn't have Arthur's impressive eyebrows there was no way he was going to win.

He returned the necklace, "You know the deal."

"I do."

"What?" Alfred asked, "What deal?"

"It's not as though we allow just anyone to join the family," Arthur said, "So we do a sort of… initiation before any of us can get married. It's an old tradition dating back several generations, so we don't even know who to blame for it."

"What sort of initiation?" Alfred asked, thinking of horror stories he'd heard as a boy about people allowing their husband's parents to brand them like a cow or cut off toes or things like that.

"If you want my blessing you're going to work on the farm for a year. You get half of what we usually pay farmhands, and you have to do anything I say."

Oh, or it could be that easy. "And then you're cool with us getting hitched?" He asked, just to check.

"Yes."

"You'll have to survive living with my brothers and their husbands too," Arthur said, "They've all moved out but I'm sure they'll visit to pester you."

"Cool! That means you're not gonna have any weird relatives that randomly turn up at our wedding."

"Oh, don't worry, they'll be there too."

"They scared off Danny's first two suitors," Arthur's dad interjected with a look on his face that was as creepy as… well, it was only as creepy as Alfred's dad's default face, so it didn't really faze him, "It was rather amusing to watch the boys completely break down."

Alfred grinned, cocky, "You're on, old man."

They shook on it as Arthur face-palmed.

Mr. Kirkland didn't waste any time starting on the initiation. Instead of sending Arthur with Alfred to collect his things from his house, he had Francis go. However, it didn't start too poorly.

"You know, this is the most exciting thing that's happened in a while. It's wonderful to see eyebrows is finally getting married!"

"Doesn't James have pretty massive eyebrows too?"

"Yes, but my husband's make him look powerful and dashing. Your fiancé's make him look childish and dramatic."

"Well, I think they're cute," Alfred said.

Francis laughed, "Yes, but cute the way that some find little annoying dogs cute."

Alfred smiled at that, "Ya know, I never thought of it that way, but I can definitely see Arthur as a little angry dog. Usually I think of him more like a cat, though: all dignified and uncaring until you scratch them just right or go to bed because then they curl up right on you or next to you."

"The next time I see him I'll have to dangle a string in front of him to see if he reacts."

Alfred laughed, "He would, he'd just punch you in the face instead of grab at it."

"In that case I should not. My face is far too beautiful to ruin in such a violent way."

"So how'd your initiation-thingie go when it was you?"

"I didn't have one, really. James and I have been close since childhood. Yes, we had to wait a year to marry after I turned fifteen, but I more or less had lived at the Kirkland's since I was ten." He laughed, "It was like we had already been married for years, so the first thing we did after the wedding was have a child. I've given birth every other year since then and we've been lucky: All boys, all survived. I'm done, though. It keeps getting harder and harder to regain my waist."

Francis went rambling on for quite some time about the various things that pregnancy did to looks. Alfred didn't care. He was bored, but for the first time in his life he held himself back from interrupting. He didn't want to mess everything up on his very first day.

"_I think this is the first time _I've _wanted someone to shut up," _Alfred thought. But then he heard Arthur's name and was interested again.

"James and I were what made him leave, actually. It's rather funny: the second he found out James and I were planning to have a second child he ran out." He grinned, "Oh yes, he spent well over a week looking for a long-term job that gave him somewhere to live. We were all astounded when he said he found one caring for you. But I suppose that that amazement was nothing close to what we felt when we learned you'd gotten him to marry you. So how did it happen?"

Alfred shrugged, "I donno." He lied, "It just kind of developed and we realized that after being together for so long we need each other."

"Oh, that is such a romantic story, but the way that you tell it is abominable. You've got to think of a better way to say it! Do it in a way that captures the essence of your love!"

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen the way you look at each other. There's no denying you're a lovely match, right down to your utter incomprehension of the true beauty of words. While they should be treasured and cherished like gems found upon the beach by a mighty ocean on a still starry night, you treat them like a pile of dung discovered by stepping in it barefoot, only to find rocks beneath which slice your foot like an arrow slices through the air. It is like-"

He kept blabbering, but Alfred wasn't listening anymore. He was more interested in the first thing he said: that he actually thought they had a chance. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Arthur was just sitting on the sofa as Alfred bustled about, as always. He wasn't entirely sure when Alfred had decided that he was made of glass just because he was pregnant, but whenever it was it was far too soon. Other than a bit of exhaustion that he just _could not shake _he felt perfectly fine. He might need more gentleness when he was the size of a horse and could barely get out of bed on his own, but now? Now they were supposed to be enjoying their last few weeks before they had to face the full responsibility of parenthood and Alfred was treating _him _like a child.

The next time Alfred walked past Arthur stood and grabbed his arm.

"Is something wrong, baby? I do whatever you need me to."

Arthur bent the captive arm behind Alfred's back and shoved him against the wall.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He was barely squirming. It was like he didn't even want to escape.

"Come on, boy," he said teasingly, "You used to insist that we wrestle almost every day."

"Things are different now," he insisted.

"Why? Because I'm with child? Don't worry; you've force-fed me so much that there's a solid layer of fat between him and you. Just don't aim for my lower belly and he'll be fine."

"Artie, just let me go."

"Make me."

"No."

"Please, Alfred," He said softly, "If you're worried so much about the damn kid, worry about the fact that I'm bored and can't sleep through the night because all I do during the day is sit around."

Alfred sighed and stopped struggling. Then in the blink of an eye, Arthur's back slammed into the wall, "Well, if you wanna put it that way. But I can only do this if you're sure that-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence because Arthur shoved him back and got about six feet away before waiting for Alfred to come at him. He did, of course. However, Alfred seemed to miscalculate his momentum because when he tackled Alfred down onto the couch he tipped the entire thing over. For a moment Arthur felt the incalculable fear that came whenever such things happened, but then he was just sandwiched between the soft back of the couch and Alfred. His heart was racing and his adrenaline was rushing. There was no turning back now.

He grabbed Alfred's wrists, "If you break the furniture it's your fun money that's going to fix it, not mine."

"Nope, yours." Alfred smiled as he tried to force Arthur's arms down.

Like hell Arthur was going to let him. "Why would that be?" He asked.

"Well, I ended up pushing us too hard because you weigh more than usual due to junior down there, and since he's connected to _your _body…"

"You got me pregnant."

"You suggested it."

"You-" He didn't really have a good counter-argument, so he let go of Alfred's wrists and tickled his sides.

"No!" Alfred shrieked, sitting up to get away.

Arthur rolled them over onto the floor and straddled Alfred, running his fingers up and down his sides and belly, enjoying every squeak and laugh that Alfred let out. But then Alfred must have remembered about the fact that Arthur was still sensitive on the back of his knees because he reached down and started attacking him there.

"Oh no, no, no, no!"

Arthur managed to trap Alfred's forearms under his shins, a safe distance away, but then he twisted free. Quickly, Arthur aimed for the extra-sensitive spot beneath Alfred's armpit, which made him flinch away for long enough for Arthur to scoot backwards away from Alfred's hands.

Alfred sat up and for a moment they just stared at each other like wolves, both waiting for someone to make the move so that they could start again. Just for a moment, Alfred's eyes flicked away and Arthur pounced. They must have gone for a good half an hour: twisting and turning and rolling just to try to get into the most advantageous position. There were a few times when Arthur wound up with Alfred's bum or groin in his face, but then he could usually get Alfred to jump with a light nuzzle instead of a tickle.

This wasn't about sex, though. It was just supposed to be a game: light and fun and mostly innocent. Too much of life was scary and dangerous. The world was full of death and religion was full of fire and brimstone. But there was a reason for why people put up with it all and it was times like this: when they could just feel happy and loved and whole without having to deal with all of the implications and repercussions of intercourse. And in spite of how much fidelity and celibacy were hammered into them by absolutely _everyone, _there was still actually something to be said for simplicity and innocence.

Arthur ended up on top when it was all said and done. He had both of Alfred's wrists in one of his hands, Alfred's left ankle in his right hand, and he was sitting on the other thigh. Alfred was frowning and trying to get free but Arthur just held on and looked down at him with a probably stupid-looking grin on his face. Eventually Alfred gave up and just smiled back up at him. At that point Arthur let go and flopped down next to his exhausted husband.

He wanted to take the chance to rub it in, to say that he was totally right and that Alfred should have just listened to him in the first place, but he didn't. He'd already had his fun, but he couldn't help but feel like saying that would tarnish it. So instead, wordlessly, he leaned over and nuzzled Alfred.

Much like when they had been wrestling, they just stared at each other. But there was no more tension. Everything was just happy and relaxed. As he watched Alfred look back at him with a sleepy smile on his face, he was reminded that it was feelings like this he'd gotten married for and it was moments like this that had made him want children for.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **As all of my fellow Alfredicans (and most likely many of you other denizens of the internet) know, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, a day that was founded to give government employees the day off (true fax) and is celebrated by overindulging in food, alcohol, and a poorly-named sport. Since I actually love the holiday like you would not believe (mostly for the turkey, stuffing, and mashed-potato sandwiches I make with the leftovers), I decided to get into the spirit and give you all shameless smut and fluff. Enjoy. (Also, warning for Alfred being a little fetish-y. You'll understand when you get there.)

* * *

><p>Alfred was starting to get sick of this whole pregnancy thing. For a while Arthur's symptoms had cleared and everything was perfectly fine, but the past week everything started sucking again. Sometimes it was worth it, like when Arthur was freaking out about some noise he heard and needed to be held all night, or when he was declaring his undying love and begging Alfred to sweep him off his feet and take him off to their room. Most of the time, though, it was total bullshit. Arthur was all moody and sleepy and achy and not at all pleasant to be around. He still didn't even have a baby bump for Alfred to fondle. He had gained more weight, but it didn't all consolidate into one lump in his lower belly like Alfred had been hoping. Instead, the entire expanse of his stomach just got a little bit softer. That wasn't nearly as fun to play with, and now Arthur would usually push him away, complaining that he was just teasing him.<p>

Was Arthur really even pregnant? Alfred was starting to suspect that this might all be an elaborate rouse just to make fun of him. Maybe Arthur was just doing all this to get a reaction out of Alfred and simply decided to eat a little more to try to make it convincing. Maybe there was secretly some random spell that everyone except for him knew. Maybe-

"What's wrong, Alfred?"

He looked over to Arthur, who was sitting across the table, his hand still on his knife. "N-nothing. It's all good."

"It doesn't seem like it," Oh dammit, it was one of the times that Arthur wasn't uber moody and was back to being the rational one.

"I've just been under a lot of stress lately is all."

"I… I'm sorry," Arthur said, looking down, "I know that I'm being horrible, it's just so hard to control myself."

"No, it's not you. Well, it's not _just _you. I mean, word's gotten out about the glasses so every time a new group of merchants comes into town they ask for a dozen or two and even though I'm loving the money, they take so much time and effort to make."

"I see. Well," He smirked at Alfred from across the table, "I'm feeling much better today, so how about after we finish supper we go cuddle by the fire? Once it starts to get late I'd like to see if I can take care of some of that stress. Besides, I've got something to tell you."

It was going to be that he'd been lying to Alfred for the past four months, wasn't it? He shook his head. No, no that couldn't be. Arthur would never hurt him like that. Arthur was just trying to be seductive because he thought it was fun. …Right?

Alfred ate less than usual, but when Arthur asked him about it he just said he wasn't hungry and Arthur looked at him sympathetically before snatching his plate and starting to eat the leftovers.

"Hungry tonight, huh?" Alfred asked as he watched Arthur spear chunk after chunk of potatoes and beef and shove them into his mouth.

"Sh-shut up," Arthur said, blushing, "Shouldn't you be happy? I'm feeding your child, you little ingrate."

Alfred laughed at the hypocrisy of the way that Arthur haughtily sniffed the air and then began shoveling food into his mouth like it was trying to get away. Arthur glared at him but didn't stop eating.

"Sorry, you're just so cute, babe!" He stood and walked over to Arthur, giving him a peck on the cheek because his mouth was too busy at the moment, "I'm gonna go get some firewood so that you can have peace and actually eat, alright?" Arthur grunted at him, and he figured that that meant okay.

He came back a couple of minutes later with enough wood to (theoretically) last the night. It was starting to get chilly, and so they had started to keep the fire going the entire time (although Arthur had speculated that Alfred would be able to keep him warm in all but the dead of winter). Alfred went to the hearth in their bedroom and knelt beside it, building a good frame for the fire. Then he returned to the kitchen to see Arthur cleaning off their plates.

"Do you need me to get the fire started for you?" He asked.

"No," Alfred replied, grinning, "I've got an idea."

He snatched the candelabra from the table and headed back upstairs. Arthur followed and watched with subdued interest as Alfred knelt down beside the fireplace. He pulled one candle from the stick and very carefully looked at the wood pile. Once he'd found the best spot, he held the candle up to it and watched as the entire thing caught fire in a matter of seconds. Smiling, he blew out the candles and placed them on the mantelpiece.

"Very nice," Arthur said, wrapping his arms around Alfred from behind.

"I try," Alfred replied, reaching backwards to trail a hand along Arthur's thigh.

"Someone's eager tonight I see."

Alfred grinned, "Not eager, just enjoying how sexy you are."

He didn't have to look to know that Arthur was blushing as he sat down in front of the fire. "You're such a bloody flatterer."

Alfred sat down next to him and intertwined their fingers, "Nah, I just call 'em like I see 'em and you," he kissed the back of Arthur's hand, "Are absolutely gorgeous."

"I love you," Arthur said, looking at him and smiling, "I know that I don't say it often enough, especially during the day, but I really do," he placed his other hand on top of their joined ones, "And I think you're awfully handsome too."

"I love you too," Alfred leaned upon his shoulder, "And _I _don't say that often enough either, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

Arthur floundered and went back to his default grumpy state, "My head's not little; it's perfectly normal in size. Yours is just inflated."

"Oh, but you're not gonna try to deny the pretty part?" Arthur choked on air, and Alfred leaned over to kiss his cheek, "You shouldn't because that's definitely true."

Arthur rolled his eyes to cover his blush, "Your seduction technique needs work."

"I'm not seducing you; I'm just giving you a compliment. The seduction is when I point to the bed and say 'be naked and on that in thirty seconds.'"

"You're hopeless."

"Hopelessly _in love," _He said, overdramatically. He flopped sideways so that his head was in Arthur's lap, "I _lurve _you and I want to be by your side until the world explodes and we're both just chunks of gore floating around in the cosmos."

"I'm going to shove your head in the fire."

Alfred started laughing and sat back up, "You know that I really _do_ love you, though, right?"

Arthur let a smile spread across his face again, "How could I ever forget?"

"Good. It's kinda important."

"Yes, only kind of seeing as we're married and I'm going to be the mother of your child."

"Come on, Artie," Alfred said, pouting, "Don't be like that!"

"I'm sick and moody all the time; I need to get my joy from somewhere."

Alfred grinned and looked back into the flames. There was a comfortable silence as they just sat there, enjoying each other's presence.

"Oh, Artie," Alfred said after a moment, "I've been meaning to ask: how's junior been anyway? Anything new?"

"Well," Arthur said reaching for his hem, "I was going to tell you later tonight, but…" With a little bit of wriggling, he pulled off both his tunic and his shift without standing.

"Holy- When did that happen?"

Every time he had the chance since Arthur went into heat, Alfred would feel his belly, just to check and see if he was showing at all yet. He desperately wanted to see a sign, something real that he could touch, that let him know that this wasn't all a fantastic dream. However, he'd been too tired the past few days, which was apparently enough time for the bottom of Arthur's stomach to turn into a perfect little dome. Alfred reached out to touch him. It was still so small that Alfred could fit his entire hand around it, but it was firm and round and so different from what he was used to feeling

"I'm not sure when it developed exactly," Arthur said, placing his hand on top of Alfred's, "But this morning I was getting dressed and there it was. I was going to tell you right away, but you were in the middle of working, so I thought I'd save it for tonight. But, Alfred, darling, I'm not showing you for nothing." He let himself blush and his eyes fell to half-mast, "Make love to me."

Alfred was only half listening because Arthur was starting to get into the cliché mode he loved, and even if he wasn't Alfred was too busy staring. Thankfully, he had widened his focus from just his hand against Arthur's belly because Arthur was extra beautiful just then. The fire made his eyes shimmer and his hair take on an orangeish hue. He had a tiny little pink flush across his cheeks, right over the freckles that he'd gained over the summer. There was also this small, soft smile on his lips. The rose pendant rested against his breast, and Alfred could almost hear it say, "Look at me, Alfred, every single inch of me is yours. Everything you see, everything you don't, is for you and only you." He wondered if he had ever been so in love in his life. Only a handful of times came even close.

He didn't have time to quantify which moment came out on top, though, because he needed to act upon that love or he was going to explode. He leaned forward and kissed him. Arthur deepened it first, opening his mouth and flicking his tongue against Alfred's lips.

With a soft groan, more to show his appreciation than because he needed to really, Alfred opened his lips and allowed Arthur inside. They were both being so gentle, so careful. Their tongues danced more than fought. Alfred wasn't even feeling lust towards him, just pure and unconditional love. He held Arthur as close as possible, loving how it felt to be pressed against his love's body.

After a few moments, Alfred reached a hand around to Arthur's front, actually stroking his swollen stomach this time and making him groan. Alfred hummed happily into the kiss and placed his other hand on the bulge as well. He stopped petting in favor of rotating his thumbs in alternating circles. He was rewarded with a breathy sigh and Arthur clinging to his shirt. Then for the first time in longer than Alfred cared to count Arthur took the initiative and acted aggressively, pushing Alfred's tongue back and trying to ravish the inside of his mouth.

Alfred wasn't going to just sit back and let him. Normally it didn't really matter, but right then he really, really wanted to be on top, driven by some ancient instinct to dominate and protect his mate. He slid his hands back up and gripped Arthur's hair, holding him still as he fought back, getting Arthur into neutral territory. All of a sudden, it was _way _too hot next to the fire. He pulled away.

"Bed," he said.

"Yeah," Arthur replied, nodding.

Arthur managed to get there first, lying back with his head in the pillows and a sweet smile on his face. Alfred quickly crawled up to cover him and initiated another kiss. This time, gravity was on his side. However, Arthur, ever unwilling to admit defeat so early in the game, distracted Alfred by rubbing his butt. As Alfred's mouth was being licked all over again, he realized that if he didn't do anything soon he'd have to submit to his pregnant husband. Now, as kinky as that was, he wasn't in the mood for it right then. He metaphorically gritted his teeth (because at the moment he had Arthur's tongue between them, and biting it wouldn't be good) and shoved back with everything he had, forcing Arthur back into his own mouth. He gave his husband's mouth one quick swipe with his tongue but then pulled away to take off his clothes.

Arthur was looking at him with a satisfied smirk, but Alfred still _totally _won. Especially since it looked like Arthur was all the way hard under his clothes and Alfred was barely half way there. Really. The only reason that he had a full-on boner by the time he was shirtless was because Arthur was slowly undoing the ties on his hose and occasionally stroking his own cock through his underwear with that goddamn lusty look on his face.

Alfred lowered himself and began to rub against Arthur, who let out a groan and bucked back, sending shivers down Alfred's spine in return. Oh, God, he could just have kept rutting against Arthur like that all night, but it was a total pain in the ass to clean come out of wool and Arthur would have totally gone, "Oh, love, my back hurts, can you scrub these for me?" instead of just doing the work.

So, grudgingly Alfred let off of Arthur, who responded with a whimper.

"I don't like it either," Alfred said, "But we gotta get naked."

"Right, right," he reached up and tugged on Alfred's laces. After a few annoying minutes of untying and another of wiggling to get everything off, both of them were naked and even more eager than before.

Alfred straddled Arthur's hips and looked down. As beautiful as he had looked by the fire, he was even better now. His arms were thrown carelessly above his head, and his hair was at every angle possible, almost giving him a halo. His eyes were half-closed and his mouth was half-open in a smile that showed Alfred he was just happy to be there. Alfred couldn't even bear to look away from his face.

"Can you wait for a minute?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Because I wanna try something."

"Come on, I want you."

"I know, it's just… Please, Artie?" He broke out the puppy dog eyes.

Arthur blushed, "Oh, alright, just make it quick."

"Thanks. Trust me, you'll like it." Alfred leaned down to kiss him, but pulled away before it could get too deep and passionate.

He kissed the corner of Arthur's mouth before making a trail over to his ear. He gently nibbled on the lobe for a few moments, nipped the soft spot behind it, and then took the entire thing into his mouth. Arthur let out a cry and bucked up, thrusting against Alfred's stomach.

Not wanting him to get off quite yet, Alfred got onto his hands and knees. He let go of Arthur's ear but didn't leave. Instead he whispered, "Arthur, I wanna play with you for a little bit. I'm gonna make it feel really good, but if you touch yourself of anything it's not gonna have the same effect. So just wait." He didn't actually know if it would matter, but he wanted Arthur to be unbearably eager and oversensitive by the time he touched him. Besides, he liked it when Alfred knew something he didn't.

"O-okay," Arthur said, obviously still shaken.

Smiling, Alfred kissed his way down to Arthur's neck. He wrapped his lips around his Adam's apple and sucked, feeling the moan before he heard it. He slid down to Arthur's shoulder and began to lavish that with attention. There were plenty of marks already that showed Arthur was his, but one more couldn't hurt. He had a bright red blotch in his milky skin by the time Alfred let go and he gave it a little kiss before nibbling his way across Arthur's collarbone. It was hard to stay right on track, though, because Arthur kept squirming, desperate for more contact. Alfred didn't give it to him. It was so much more fun that way, forcing Arthur to his absolute limits. He left another hickey on Arthur's other shoulder, making it nice and symmetrical.

He made sure to have eye contact as he lifted Arthur's necklace and kissed it lightly, which made him laugh.

"You're trying to be romantic in the middle of this?"

"This _is _romantic, baby."

"This is sex."

"It's both." He placed kissed Arthur's chest right over his heart, and he felt it beat a little faster under his lips.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see one of Arthur's nipples. It wasn't fair to say that it was swollen because it really wasn't, but both of them had become bigger and darker than they had been before the pregnancy. Alfred reached up and nipped the closer one, sparking a massive reaction. Grinning, he did it a few more times from varying angles, before finally pressing his tongue against it. Arthur let out a loud moan and pressed Alfred's face closer. Alfred laughed, but then gently began to suck it. Arthur had enjoyed it before, but now it seemed to drive him crazy. He was arching and writhing and crying out like Alfred was fucking him. Alfred placed his hand over Arthur's other nipple and rolled it between his fingers for a little while and then he switched. He kept teasing and teasing until he felt Arthur come.

"Hey," he said, pouting, "I wasn't done."

"Sorry," Arthur panted, "I couldn't really help it."

"So does that mean we're done for tonight?"

Arthur smiled, "I think I can go another round, just move on and be gentler for a while."

Grinning again, Alfred got back to work. He traced the sides of Arthur's chest with his hands and kissed down his middle until he finally reached Arthur's bump. He pulled back for a moment, wondering what to do. All he knew was that he wanted to feel it. He wanted to feel it _bad. _To buy himself some time, he went for Arthur's legs instead.

Arthur had beautiful legs, long and slim and everything anyone could want. He kissed his way up the inside of one, all the way from his bony ankle to his soft, creamy thigh. He bit just beneath where his leg joined his torso, loving the sweaty musky flavor. Arthur whimpered and squirmed, and even though he wasn't hard yet Alfred could tell that he was starting to get aroused again. Alfred slid back down and did it to the other leg, and by the time he got all the way up Arthur was a good half way there.

Alfred ghosted over it with his fingers, making Arthur jump, but then he went back to the problem spot right above. Very gently, he traced the side of Arthur's belly with two knuckles. Arthur whimpered slightly, but didn't make a move. Alfred splayed his fingers across next, not able to get over the fact that right at that moment he held his child in his hand. That was his baby, so tiny, so fragile. He leaned down and nuzzled it, just putting the tiniest bit of pressure on it. Arthur gasped and Alfred looked up at him, only to see him looking back with adoration and lust in his eyes.

That reminded him why he was here in the first place and he stopped being so gentle, mouthing at it now, leaving love marks all over Arthur's pale skin. Arthur was moaning again, loving the contact. Alfred licked straight up the center of the dome, but he kept going, working his way up to Arthur's chin until they were level again.

"Holy Shit, boy," Arthur breathed. He was already half way gone, Alfred noticed with pride, "Oh dammit, fuck me."

"No." Alfred said, smiling.

"What do you mean, 'no?'"

"Don't worry. I have something else in mind, just trust me."

Arthur scowled and said "I'm sick of you asking me to trust you tonight." But he wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck nonetheless.

Alfred just ignored him and grabbed the slick to coat both of their cocks.

"Wait a moment," Arthur said, realizing what Alfred had planned.

"'Kay," he said, not really wanting to (Arthur wasn't the only one that got desperate from all that foreplay) but not wanting to get kicked off either. Arthur clutched him tightly and rolled over so that they were on their sides.

"That's better," He said, wiggling closer until their groins were flushed together.

Alfred groaned. He liked fucking. He liked being fucked. But sometimes nothing was better than being able to rub his cock against his husband's. He liked the equality, the fact that they were both being pleased the same way, especially when they were on their sides so that no one topped. Sometimes he actually felt closer to Arthur like that than he did when they were actually connected.

It might not have been completely even this time, though. Alfred would occasionally "accidentally" (well, the _first _time was an accident) rub himself against Arthur's belly instead of his groin. There was just something sexy about involving Arthur's bump in sex (besides, he owed him because Arthur was gonna get off twice). For a moment, he lost himself to fantasy, thinking of two or three months from now when Arthur would be so huge his clothes would barely fit. Oh man, if Arthur'd still be willing to have sex it would be _awesome. _Alfred could see it now, his huge, heavy belly swinging around beneath him as Alfred pounded into him, or maybe shaking slightly as he rode Alfred, showing of his beautiful new body.

Of course, he was beautiful just as he was, too. But this whole baby thing, it was new, it was exciting, and now Alfred had tangible proof that it was actually _real, _that he and Arthur were gonna be parents. They were making a brand new little life. And right then, right that very second, it was inside Arthur, growing and getting stronger.

Alfred was close, he was so close. It would only take a couple more rolls of his hips to bring him to orgasm, but when he looked up and locked eyes with Arthur there was no lust. Just like before, they simply looked at each other with love. Alfred knew in his heart that Arthur had just been thinking the same thing. Arthur reached out to grab Alfred's hand while Alfred threw his other arm around Arthur's shoulder. They clutched each other close and let go.

"We… We're a real bloody mess," Arthur said after taking a moment to catch his breath. He ran a finger through their mixed come. After all that he was still trying to save face. Arthur never failed to amuse him.

"Yeah," Alfred replied, too sleepy and sated to really care.

They just laid there for another few moments, waiting for their hearts to calm down, but then Alfred shimmied down the bed until his face was level with Arthur's baby bump again. He kissed every one of the marks he'd left before, apologizing for the slight overkill.

"What are you up to, lad?" Arthur asked with amusement in his voice.

"Just gimmie a sec," Alfred said, looking up for a moment.

He turned back to his child-in-the-making, "Hey there," he said softly, "I'm your daddy. My name's Alfred, but you can call me Freddie if you want when you get old enough. I just wanted you to know that I love you and I'm so glad you're here. Both your mommy and I have wanted you for a long, long time. Even though I can't see your face, it's awesome that I can see that you're here now. I can't wait until I can actually look at you. Can't wait to hold you in my arms. We've got four and a half months left until we get to meet each other. You're gonna love your mommy too. He's a great guy, and he's really pretty."

"Now you're just pandering to me."

Alfred ignored him, "Yeah, that was him. He likes to pretend that he's all grumpy and mean but he's actually really nice and he loves you lots too. So get big and strong while you're in there, okay? We're counting on you," He gave Arthur's belly a kiss, "Now sleep well tonight. You and mommy both need your rest, okay?"

And then he came back up to lie next to Arthur. He grinned at Arthur's scowl.

"I'm sure that he can't hear you."

"Well, I think he can. And if not, he can feel it in his soul."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "For goodness's sake, it doesn't even move yet."

"So? He will soon!"

"You're an absolute idiot. I don't know why I let you do that."

"You liked it."

"Did not!"

"Then why have you been blushing the entire time?"

"I'm embarrassed for you."

"Alright, fine. But don't think I'm not gonna make fun of you when _you _start talking to him."

Arthur huffed and rolled onto his other side.

Alfred took this as an opportunity to pull him closer so that they were nestled together perfectly.

"I hate you," Arthur said.

"Love you too." Alfred replied, smiling into his neck.

He didn't miss it when Arthur reached up and took the hand Alfred had thrown over his side.

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, Alfred just couldn't keep his hands off of Arthur. The boy had always had his cuddly moods, where Arthur would have to complain for five minutes to leave for long enough to take a piss, it was worse now than ever before. For one thing, normally Alfred's moods only lasted half a day at most and this had gone on for a week. But the part that was really, <em>really <em>starting to scare Arthur was that he was actually enjoying it. Normally he could huff and say that he really had a lot of work to do and that Alfred really ought to let him go and do his own business, but now he couldn't bring himself to do so.

At first he tried to justify it by saying that it was really starting to get chilly, so it was most advantageous to stay close to Alfred's warm body, and the very first powdering of snow had hit here, which meant that the merchants probably couldn't get through the mountains and they didn't have much business in the first place. However, he quickly lost the will because he was too damn happy with it. There was something in the possessive way that Alfred held him that made him feel small and safe in the very best way. And that was the other thing: it was always _Alfred _who was doing the holding. Normally at least once when they cuddled Arthur would wind up in the dominant position, but now even when they faced each other Alfred would tuck Arthur's head under his chin. Sometimes Arthur would even do it himself voluntarily, simply choosing to burry his nose in the crook of Alfred's neck or even just against his chest.

That was how they were at the moment: knees interwoven, arms around each other. Arthur would just be able to peek over the top of Alfred's shoulder if his eyes were open. They weren't, though. He was so warm, and the bed was so soft… he felt himself slowly starting to drift off to sleep. It was completely normal to nap during their cuddle sessions. Often one of them would sleep for a few hours, wake up, and then the other one would take a turn. They occasionally spoke, but most of the time the contact said more than they could.

One of Alfred's hands was stroking Arthur's spine, all the way from the base of his ribs to the swell of his behind. It was very soothing, drawing Arthur deeper and deeper. He doubted he could sit up even if he wanted to. Alfred leaned down and kissed his forehead, leaving his lips there for a few moments longer than necessary.

Arthur sighed and pulled himself closer, wanting more actual contact.

Alfred grumbled as the arm he'd put between them so that he could have his hand on Arthur's stomach was twisted awkwardly.

Arthur took Alfred's wrist and guided it free. He kissed the lowest joint on each finger and placed it behind his back. He smiled up at Alfred. There was no need for him to be so excited about it: the baby would be right there when he woke up again and would continue to be there for another four and a half months.

He couldn't blame Alfred, though. Even _he _wasn't completely used to it, and it was strapped to_ his_ torso. In rare private moments, he would strip naked from the waist up just to look. It was so strange: he used to only think about the pregnancy now and then and whenever he did it seemed somehow distant, like it was happening to someone else. Even now it boggled his mind to think about it. When he looked down at himself it wasn't just him anymore. There was a tiny little person there too, part him, part Alfred. He wondered when it would become real to him, when he would really be able to accept and understand what was going on.

He noticed that Alfred was looking at him strangely. His response was to blush and bury himself in Alfred's shirt.

Alfred didn't let him though. He placed a hand under his chin and guided his face back up. They locked eyes for a few moments, Alfred trying to understand thoughts that Arthur himself didn't. But then he smiled softly, sweetly. He pulled Arthur up for a kiss. going much more slowly and gently than his personality would normally allow. When he released Arthur, he brought him back down to where he was before.

"It's okay," he whispered, "You can sleep."

Arthur smiled, kissed his chest, and did just that.


	7. Chapter 7

If you add some plot to filler, is it still filler? I don't know, but I do know that we're already about half way done with this and I hope you like padding because the rest of this story is gonna be full of it (I really want to get to 50 K and I'm three-fourths there).

Before you get mad, I really _do _love Poland. It's just that England… doesn't.

Also: In my opinion, Freddie is a better nickname than Alfie and it's my fic, so there :P

* * *

><p>As Arthur struggled on the bed, trying desperately to get his tunic down over his belly, he realized he was finally going to have to give up and buy new clothes. He blamed the fashion when he had bought this one, when a fitted cut and heavily embroidered all the way to the hips were common. It looked fantastic on him and suited him well when he was slim, but right then it wanted to squish something that really did not like being squished. Thankfully, due to Alfred's constant insisting that he are more, there was still a little bit of give left in him and he managed to finish getting dressed.<p>

He brought it up at breakfast. He didn't even get a chance to justify himself because as soon as Alfred heard "I think I need a new tunic" he was on board. The rest of the meal he acted like an excited puppy waiting to go for a walk and Arthur was half way to forcing him out into the street to wait.

"Will you stop bouncing like that?" Arthur demanded.

"I can't help it!" Alfred whined leaning forward and putting his head on the table. He looked up at Arthur and pouted "This is the first baby thing we're buying and it's really exciting. So the real question is," He sat back up, "Why aren't _you_ bouncing?"

"It's not a 'baby thing.' It's for me."

"Yeah, but why do you need the new tunic?" He grinned, "It's because you're pregnant. With a baby. Therefore, yes, it's a baby thing. Plus, you're probably gonna have to wear it after he's born."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well how are you gonna nurse him through that?"

Arthur looked down at himself and unfortunately saw that Alfred have a point. The only way that anyone could get to his nipples would be if they took his entire tunic all the way off. Instead of admitting that Alfred was right, he just shrugged.

"Ya know, Artie, If you're gonna be stubborn, I can always stop by a carpenter's shop and buy some toys while you're stuck at the tailor's. Then we'll have undeniably bought a baby thing."

"Please no. By the end of the day I'll have enough of a pain in my wallet as it is."

Alfred laughed but left it at that. Apparently he understood that getting new clothes was enough torture for Arthur.

It wasn't so much having to go to the store or trying to pick out something that he liked enough to wear every day except for Sunday for months. He actually liked having some change in his life. As much as he groused about it, as long as he didn't have to budget too harshly because of it, he didn't even mind the price very much. No, his problem was the actual fitting part. Or more accurately the person who did the fitting part, Feliks.

Feliks was surprisingly smart and fairly sweet once you actually got to know him, and that came through the clearest when he was talking about his husband, Toris, or his one-and-a-half-year-old (because that half was _clearly _important) son. Since Toris and Alfred were close friends and loved spending time together, Arthur and Feliks had been forced to talk enough that Arthur had gained a sort of twisted sort of almost-affection for him.

But it wasn't about what Feliks actually said, it was all in _how _he said it.

"Ohmygod! Artie, I'm _soo _glad you're here!" He ran over and took both of Arthur's hands in his, "I've, like, been wondering when you'd come in! It's great that you're preggers and everything and I'm, like, totally happy for you and Alfie and stuff, but, like, you'd _never _be able to fit a whole baby under _that _tunic. Trust me, Artie, you blow up like a balloon. It's totally unfabulous. But, hey, new clothes, like, totally make it worth it! I've, like, been so excited that I went through all of my, umm, patterns and stuff and made something in your size. Since I'm _totally _all organized and stuff I had, like, all of your old measurements and stuff, so it should fit you like a glove or something! I'm, like, totally sure you'll _love _it._" _

"Well that's great," Alfred said, smiling, "I'm going to go back and talk to Toris now, so have fun you two!"

Arthur grabbed Alfred by the wrist, "Come on, _darling, _why don't you stay and share your opinion?"

"Oh, _honey_, you know I think you look great in everything."

"But, _lovely, _I know you like some things more than others."

"Don't worry about it, _sweetheart, _Feliks knows what he's talking about."

As Arthur gave Alfred his best "I'm pretending to be nice but I'm actually just hoping to melt your face off" glare, Feliks just hopped off saying "I'll go and get it for you!"

"Don't leave me with him," Arthur hissed, "He'll talk my ear off about the stupidest things."

"You'll be fine. He's not that bad."

Arthur gave him a flat look, "Really, Alfred? You heard that speech, if you can call what he did speech."

"Well what do you expect _me_ to do about it?"

"You're the only person I know who might be able to keep up. Just out-talk him or something."

"Out-talk Feliks? You have _got _to be kidding me. No man alive can do that. Besides, I actually _do _ have some stuff I want to talk to Toris about."

"Can't it wait until the next time you meet up at the pub or after church? I need you here! It's impossible to face him down alone!"

"Arthur, after all the shit you supposedly put up with growing up, you can totally handle an hour or two of this."

"At least my brothers spoke properly! Besides, I'm all out of practice at ignoring people."

"It didn't seem that way when I was asking you if I should cut my hair or not last night."

"That's different. I'm used to your voice and I can tell when it's important and just have you as white background noise the rest of the time. Feliks is different."

Alfred looked unimpressed. Time for another tactic.

"Please, Alfred, I'm begging you. When we got married you promised to stay with me through the most trying of circumstances."

"The wise often say that there are some things in life that every man must face alone."

"And why would I have to face _this _alone?"

"So that at least one of us may live," Alfred teased.

"A _real_ man would sacrifice himself to save his child."

"Mom always said that a real man can live through any torture when his family is on the line."

"So put up with the torture! The brat and I are your family now."

"Hey!" Feliks came back into the front of the shop, "What 'cha talking about?"

"Philosophy," Alfred answered without missing a beat.

Arthur held back a snicker.

Feliks clicked his tongue, "Well, that's probably a little over my head. I never, like, did too good in school."

"You don't say." Arthur said, suppressing a smile.

Alfred smacked him gently, "Stop it."

"But I do, like, do clothes really good and stuff!"

He showed off the tunic he had brought out. The fabric was a beautiful, rich emerald green, but it was slightly lighter until where his sternum would end where it changed to a darker color. The type of material itself was different on both sides of the divide, he noticed. The sleeves and very top seemed to be a stiffer material and decorated with a bit of gold thread along all of the seams, but on the bottom it changed into something loose and flowing, most likely to accommodate his belly no matter how large he grew. The stiffer part laced, which probably meant that he'd be able to nurse in it too. Arthur didn't want to admit it, but it looked like Feliks really _did _have the perfect thing for him.

"Well don't just stare! Like, go try it on!" Feliks shoved it into his hands and then proceeded to push him into a little curtained off section in the corner.

Arthur decided not to put up a fight, instead unbuttoning his collar and trying to pull his tunic over his head. He managed about half an inch, but then it just wouldn't move. Well, that was embarrassing.

He peeked back into the main room, "Hey Alfred, could you come help me?"

"Sure," Alfred said, looking confused, but coming nonetheless.

"But what do you need me for?" He asked as Arthur sealed him in, "You got it on this morning."

"It's just, uh… it's, ah…" Arthur felt himself start to blush.

"Come on, Artie. If you don't need me, I actually dohave something to talk to Toris about, so-"

"Look," He grabbed Alfred's hand so he wouldn't run away, "The past few days I've had to lie down to change because otherwise I can't fit my tunic over my stomach, but now I can't so I'm stuck."

"Seriously?"

"No, please don't laugh!"

But it was too late. At least Alfred had the decency to cover his mouth.

"Just help, okay?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he kissed him softly, "You were just too cute. But yeah, I'll do it."

"Good, just try not to tear anything."

"Right. Put your hands up."

Arthur did as he was told.

"Okay then: one, two, three!" With a grunt and a harsh tug (but no ripping, thank god), he got the tunic high enough that Arthur could get the rest of the way out.

"Mmph!" Arthur said, pushing the rest of it off.

"Hey!" Feliks shouted, "Don't, like, do anything weird in my shop!"

"We're not!" Arthur shouted, turning even redder.

Alfred was still smiling, "You're adorable."

"Shut up!"

"Here," Alfred said, picking up the other tunic, "Let me help you get dressed again."

"I can do that part myself," Arthur grumbled, but he still let Alfred slip it over his head and lace it up for him.

"Wow," Alfred said, taking a step back, "You look great."

Arthur looked down at himself. Because of the nature of the garment, it was a lot easier to see how large he'd grown than it had been before, and he wasn't sure that he liked that. He just knew that he would feel completely exposed when he stood out on the street with his pregnant belly sticking out for all to see. However, it wasn't as though he had enjoyed being squished like that either. Either way he'd be quite uncomfortable when he left. He placed a hand on his stomach. Hell, it looked even bigger like this than it did when he was naked.

"Hey," Alfred said, taking his hand and making him look up, "You'd have to show it off eventually. And _I _think you look a lot better like this than trying to fit back in that other one."

"But I- It's a little…"

"Don't worry, babe, you've got nothing to hide. It just shows that you've got the balls to go through being pregnant for the sake of starting a family with someone you love."

Oh, how could he say no to that naïve joy? Arthur sighed, "Oh, alright."

"Yes! You're not gonna regret this, Artie! Trust me."

"If I had a copper for every time you said that…"

"Hey, Feliks!" Alfred shouted, ignoring him in favor of throwing the curtain open, "We'll take it!"

"See? I was, like, totally right! That's good too, because, like, it's a total pain in the butt to resize one of those."

"Thanks," Arthur said, "But now I have to know, how much?"

"Two gold."

"What?" He had been expecting a lot, but that was incredibly steep.

"Hey, do you know how long it takes to make cloth, and then make it into a pattern, and then sew it together, and then embroider it, and then tailor it? It's, like, a really long time! And, umm, didn't you just hear what I said about resizing that kind of material? But," he smiled, "Since you're friends and stuff I'll give you half off if you, like, let me touch your tummy."

"No. Absolutely not."

But then Alfred got behind him and started pushing, "Oh, come on, Artie, we all need to make sacrifices."

"Traitor."

Alfred just laughed, ignoring his complaints like always. Arthur just hoped it was worth the black eye he'd be getting once they got home.

* * *

><p>Arthur and Alfred were relaxing in the sitting room upstairs when they heard the door downstairs open.<p>

"I'll go get it," Alfred declared, detangling himself from Arthur and making sure his clothes were all straight. He had to make sure that he looked good for customers. He felt cold, though, after leaving his blanket and personal heater. Well, that was what they got for deciding to snuggle during business hours, "Coming!" He shouted down the stairs.

He rushed down to the shop, not wanting to piss off whoever wanted to buy stuff from them. However, when he finally got out front he didn't find some random customer like he had been expecting.

"Hey! Mattie!" He jumped over the counter and went to hug his brother, "It's great to see you!"

"H-hi, Freddie," Matt said, voice muffled by his shirt.

"So," Alfred said, pulling away just enough to smile at Matt, "What brings you all the way into town?"

"Oh my god, what happened to your face?"

"Special offer on a shirt."

"What?"

"I'll explain later," He made a dismissive gesture, "But come on, bro, this is an awful long way to go for a random walk, so what brings you all the way over here?"

"But- Oh, fine. I wanted to see you and Arthur."

"Aw, that's so sweet of you, Mattie. Artie's upstairs, but I can make him come down and I'll make you some tea in the mean time. It's getting so cold out there."

"Yeah," Matt said, smiling softly, "Something warm would be nice. I'm still a little chilly." He clutched his cloak more tightly around himself to illustrate the point.

Alfred brought Matt back into the kitchen and started moving around, getting everything for tea, "Yo, Artie!" He called up the stairs, "My brother's here!"

"Hello," Arthur called. But there were no sounds of movement, which should have been easy to hear in such an old building.

"Come _on_. Are you so fat that you can't climb the stairs already?"

"Alfred!" Matt shouted.

"Relax, he knows not to take it seriously." He heard Arthur get up and start making his way towards the stairs and went back to work.

"So, where's Gil?" Alfred asked as Matt sat down at the table, "Doesn't he normally come with?"

"Yeah, but Dad's taken up gardening and you know that his back likes to act up, so Gil's helping him with some melons. And, oh man, Alfred, they're like this big," He held his hands about shoulder-width apart.

"How'd they do that?"

"Well, Gil and I have been putting Mom's food out there…"

"Shouldn't that have killed them all?"

"You'd think. My guess is that it kept all the parasites away."

"Oh yeah, that makes sense," Alfred filled the kettle with water and placed it over the fire, right next to the stew he was making for dinner.

At that point, Arthur reached the kitchen floor and went right to the table.

"Hi, Artie," Matt said, "You doing okay?"

Arthur shrugged, "Can't complain."

"He does all the time, though," Alfred cut in, sitting down because he felt weird bring the only one standing.

"Well, I meant other than my idiotic husband."

"Speaking of Alfred, has he constructed his burrow yet?"

"What?"

"Matt, let's talk about something else."

"No, Alfred, I'm genuinely interested."

Matt grinned, "What? Didn't he tell you?"

"Matt, don't you dare."

"No, he didn't. I'd like to hear about this 'burrow.'"

"_Matt." _

"You know how he hates the cold?"

"Of course," Arthur snorted, "How could I forget?"

"When we were like six-"

"Matt, please, I will give you _anything." _

"He decided that he didn't want to leave the house at all because it was too cold, so-"

"My God, just shut up!"

"He made this fort in his room and when Mom came in to try to get him out and take him to church-"

Alfred stood to make a move, but Arthur grabbed him and held him in place.

"He looked up and him and said, 'Mommy, don't you know? Alfreds hibernate for the winter.'"

Both of them cracked up, and Alfred sat down, defeated. He put his head in his hands, and the other two went on with the conversation like that hadn't even happened and he wasn't even there.

"So, really this time, has anything interesting happened around here?" Matt asked.

"Not really, no," Arthur said, "We've been doing some straightening up, and we bought me this," he gestured to his tunic, "But nothing important. What about you?"

"Well, actually, that's what I'm here about," Matt stood and pulled off his cloak, "Please don't be mad."

Alfred looked up. Life is kind of funny sometimes, he realized. Over the past few years he'd put so much thought into marrying Arthur and then in the past few months about actually having their own kid he'd forgotten that the rest of his family wasn't stuck in time. He'd never so much as considered that his own twin, who had been married even longer than him, might want the same thing and get it too. And so, Alfred sat as his kitchen table and stared at his twin brother's pregnant belly.

_Damn _he was big. Arthur was pretty impressive those days, but Matt was just as big if not bigger and out of freaking _nowhere. _Alfred wondered how far along his brother was and why he'd kept it hidden for so long.

"I swear that we were planning it for a long, long time, but then I had to go and break in some new officers to break in new recruits, so that took over a year, and then apparently Gil's village has this tradition where you need to have your parents' permission to have kids, and-"

Shit, Matt was normally quiet, but once he got going he would never stop.

"That's so exciting!" Alfred said, standing to be level with him, "We're gonna get to be uncles at pretty much the same time!"

"O-oh yeah," he obviously realized he was ranting, "Yeah that is pretty cool." He sat down and started to rub his stomach gently.

"But what made you wait so long?" Alfred asked, sitting back down, "I mean, how pregnant are you? Four months? five?"

"Three."

"What?" Alfred asked.

"I know that I don't look like it," Matt said, "But I swear that I'm just going into month four. I think it's twins. I mean, when I first went to the healers they said that I'm more likely to have more than one because _we're _twins."

"That's… Wow, congrats!" He went over and gave his brother a hug.

"But man, Matt, you've just gotta outdo me whenever it matters, huh? First you go off to war as an officer, then you get married before I do, now you're having twins? If I wasn't totally awesome I'd be jealous."

"I'm just glad you don't mind."

"Hey, it's no big deal. Besides, mine's older."

"Only by like a month and a half."

"Hey, we don't even _know _which one of us is older. But I'm sure it's me."

"No way."

"Yeah way."

They continued to bicker, neither of them really meaning what they said until well after all the tea was gone and Arthur got bored and went back upstairs to take a nap. But that was what it meant to be siblings.

"Hey Matt," Alfred asked softly in a momentary lapse in conversation.

"Yeah?"

"What's it like?"

"Being pregnant?" Matt asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I've asked Artie, but he's never given me a straight answer."

"Well," Matt leaned back and placed his hand back on his stomach, "It's hard to _give _a straight answer."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's one of those same but different things."

"Can you just try?"

He thought for a moment, "I really can't."

"But please, I wanna know."

"Why?"

"Why?" He blinked, "Because I wanna know. You've lived your whole life with me Matt. I'm curious. If there's ever something someone knows that I don't I just have this burning desire to understand."

"I know, I know," he sighed, "But this is just like when you asked me what it's like to be in a battle. I just can't explain it. I'm not good with words, and if even _Arthur _can't tell you…"

"But Matt…"

"Alfred, can you tell me what it's like to look at someone and not see an aura? Can you explain how it feels to be with an animal and relate to them like they're real people? Can you make me understand how it feels when your husband first starts showing and you can see that he's really pregnant? Can you?"

"No," Alfred said, tracing the edge of the table with his finger.

"It's the same thing, Freddie." Matt came around to hug him, "And it's okay not to know everything."

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred said, accepting the hug, "But I really wanted to know _this. _I want to know what Arthur's going through, why he's acting like he is, how I can make this as easy for him as possible."

"Just try."

"But I don't know what to try. And most of the time it seems like I just make him mad."

"Alfred, just be you."

"Do you want to know how I got this?" He touched the edge of the bruise around his eye.

"Don't change the subject, Alfred. I know you like to just push things away, but-"

"Arthur gave it to me."

"Huh?"

"He gave it to me because I made him let Feliks touch his tummy so that we could get his tunic for half price."

"I still don't get what that has to do with what we were just talking about."

"I was trying to help," he said, looking away, "I wanted to make things easier on him and save us a ton of money, but he just got mad. Every time I try to help him be better he gets mad at me."

"Maybe you should stop trying."

"I'm not gonna give up on him, Matt," Alfred said, looking back up at him with determination.

"I'm not saying that. Look, Freddie," he pulled him up, "I might not be able to tell you what it's actually like to be pregnant, but I can definitely tell you this: Arthur doesn't need you to try to make him 'better' or try all sorts of things to 'help.' He just needs you to be you."

"But I don't know anything about having kids."

Matt smiled, "None of us do. But trust your guts and your instincts. Trust Arthur too, but not as much as you trust your feelings."

"But-"

"Trust your big brother too."

"Hey, _I'm _the big brother."

"There you go. Now go up and do that."

"You're not staying?"

"I want to be home by dinner. Gil freaks out if I miss a meal," He hugged Alfred, "Now go on. Your son needs his father."

"See ya 'round, Matt."

He smiled, "Bye, Alfred."

He watched Matt leave before climbing the stairs. Arthur was sitting on the sofa, reading. He smiled and pulled the blanket back for a moment, making room for Alfred to join him.

"What's wrong, lad?" He asked as Alfred sat down, "Did you catch mood swings from me?" He rubbed his cheek, wiping away a tear Alfred had been trying to pretend didn't slip out.

"No," Alfred said, rubbing his face against Arthur's shoulder, "Matt just always knows how to push my buttons."

"What did he say? Because I swear, I don't care if he's pregnant or not, if he hurt you on purpose-"

"No," Alfred said, "Nothing like that."

"Then what-?"

"It's okay, Arthur," Alfred said, hugging him, "Just… Thanks."

"For what?"

"Picking me."

He felt Arthur just staring at him for a few moments, bit then he slowly came down kissed the top of his head. Alfred felt his smile and held him just a bit tighter.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/n: **Hi everyone! I'd just like to say that I've now officially finished writing this story :D The total word count (at this point) is 50741, which means I finished NaNoWriMo on time yaaay (I actually finished on the 28th, but I didn't feel like posting). Also, in unrelated news, Paint it White came in the mail today too (Barnes and Noble, how I love that I always get at least 30% off, even if I have to wait obscenely long due to holidays) Anyway, here's your chapter :3

Oh, and on the topic of names:

James: Scotland

Danny: Ireland

Liam: Wales

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><p>Arthur's family members were nice people, really. As much as he fought with his brothers and even his father, it was all because of love that none of them could admit to having. Besides, they used it more as a test than anything else. It was simply their way of helping to steer each other in the right direction and keep themselves from making choices they would soon regret. That was what it meant to be a Kirkland: tough, unconquerable, and passionate. Arthur just didn't understand why Alfred was resisting going to see them this year.<p>

"Artie," he said, even as they were walking up to the door, "Are you _sure _you want to spend the harvest festival with your family?"

Arthur sighed, looking back over his shoulder at Alfred, "Of course I'm sure. It's what we've done for years, and they're the only people we know who actually own a _farm_…"

"But I mean… are you gonna be okay?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, I donno,"He said sarcastically, "Maybe because last year you and Danny got completely wasted and then beat each other to a bloody pulp."

"I won't get drunk this year. I'm not stupid."

"Thank you," Alfred said letting out a sigh of relief.

"I'll just sneak up from behind, tap him on the shoulder, and punch his lights out."

Alfred let out a noise like he was being strangled.

"You can't even tell when I'm kidding."

"Not when you would totally do it."

"Only if he deserved it."

"Do any of your brothers ever _not _deserve it according to you?"

"Of course, or else none of us would have reached puberty. We just make an exception on holidays. It used to be because we had nothing better to do, and we simply decided to keep the tradition going so that we don't miss each other too terribly."

Alfred's expression made it seem as though he'd been ordered to jump into a pile of needles naked. Arthur just ignored him and opened the door. You didn't need to knock if they knew you were coming, after all. The entire front room was filled with light, as welcoming and homey to Arthur as the fact that there were no fewer than three heated debates going on. Arthur frowned: they were slacking. There were six adults in the room, so with his family there could have been upwards of a dozen. At least it seemed that his nephews understand the family code of honor unlike their slothful parents because there seemed to be a free-for-all wrestling match on the floor involving everyone including the dogs save for Liam's two year old, who was giggling at the mock battle. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the Frog's food.

He took a step inside and inhaled deeply. Oh, it was good to be home.

"Glad to see you hauled your fat arse out of bed for long enough to see us!"

"I'd watch it if I were you, James," Arthur grabbed his brother by the collar and pulled him down to his level, "I've been biding my time for twenty-three years and now I finally have a golden opportunity to beat you up without you being able to do so much as lift a finger to stop me."

"Not true. I just can't hit your torso. There's plenty of other places I can break without hurting the babe."

"No you can't. You fight like you don't have any elbows: just flailing about like a fish on the pier. If you aimed for my head you'd be lucky not to smack the ceiling."

James smiled and ruffled Arthur's hair. "Good to know that marrying this soft bastard and turning into a fat sow hasn't taken the Kirkland out of you."

"Oh, I assure you that I've become quite domestic. It's just that seeing a face as ugly as yours would trigger any mother's defensive instincts."

"Well played," Danny said, sarcastically, "Between you and your husband that baby's going to be born so thick he'll have a job as a castle wall."

"Come on, don't pick on ickle wittle Artie-kins," Liam came up from behind him and teasingly rubbed his belly, "He's got enough trouble as it is just getting out of bed, having a piss, and going back to sleep."

Arthur just threw a hand back to smack him in the nose.

"Artie," Alfred said, coming over, "Don't start anything."

"Who's starting what?" Arthur asked, feigning innocence.

"Why don't I show you where you can put those bags?" Arthur's dad asked, dragging Alfred off by the arm before he could protest.

Arthur decided then and there for the thousandth time that Dad was his favorite.

"Seriously, though," Liam said, handing him a mug full of ale, "How've you been holding up?"

"Fine, I think," Arthur replied, leaning back against the wall, "I could complain all day about how I feel, but I'm fairly sure it's all normal."

"It's a bitch ain't it?" Danny's husband asked, gesturing with his mug.

"Don't worry, it gets a whole lot worse," Liam said.

"How would you know?" His husband asked.

"Because I had to deal with you. Twice."

"What 'cha talking about?" Danny's younger son asked, pulling on his father's tunic.

"Nothin' much," Danny said, picking him up, "Just that next year you're going to have another cousin. It's Uncle Artie who's going to be a mum this time, though."

"Please don't teach him to call me Artie too."

"Shut up. Can you see how big he's gotten? Your baby cousin's growing in there."

"Can I touch, daddy?"

Danny looked over to Arthur, who felt a sudden surge of affection that even after all he had done to his brother over the years he still had the respect to ask first. Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Alright, but pay attention to what your uncle says and stop if he tells you to, okay?"

"Okay," the boy said.

He reached out and placed his tiny hand on the swell of Arthur's belly. He patted him a few times, all with this very intense look on his face. Arthur suddenly felt very fond of his nephew. There was something very sweet and familiar about being touched like that, not to mention the complete innocence of the action. The simple childish curiosity and forwardness was making Arthur's heart do interesting things. He suddenly felt a strong desire to hold his own child in his arms, to clutch him tightly and feel his tiny warm body against his chest.

"Hey!" Another one of his nephews seemed to have noticed that his cousin was getting special treatment, "I wanna touch too!"

"No!" Arthur said, pushing Danny away, "I forgot that I can never say yes to _any _of you or else all of you jump on me."

"But Kane got to!" A different boy whined.

"Uncle Artie!"

"Artie, Artie!"

"Come on, please, _Arthur." _

"No! Dear Lord, one of you lot help me!"

"Oh, come on, Arthur," James was grinning like a cat that had just discovered a wounded mouse, "You got yourself into this one."

As he more or less forced Arthur down into a chair, making the ale spill everywhere, Arthur changed his mind about Dad being his favorite. He'd taken away Arthur's only protection and now all of them could go straight to hell as far as Arthur was concerned. He was suddenly surrounded by every single one of the boys and all of a sudden there were grubby little hands everywhere: jostling for position, trying to touch him. He just wanted to get away and go curl up in a little ball in an empty room somewhere. For the first time, he regretted leaving his nice comfy sofa next to Alfred.

"Oh, Arthur! Why did no one tell me you had arrived?"

Fuck, the only person who could make it worse had left the kitchen.

"Hi, Francis," Arthur grumbled.

"Shoo, all of you!" He dispersed the children and then turned to Arthur, "Stand! Come on, you lazy thing!"

Arthur looked at him like he was mad.

Francis huffed as he hauled him to his feet, but then put a huge stupid grin on his face, "Oh, look at you!" He rubbed Arthur's stomach, just like all of the boys, only worse because he was twenty-six for fuck's sake, "You're getting so big!"

"Leave me alone!" Arthur shouted, shoving him aside.

"Oh, but it's so nice to see you like this. So often you're completely uncouth and horrid. But now, now you're so soft and vulnerable. It doesn't suit you one bit, I must say. Tell me, how humiliated do you feel?"

"Not as much as you will once I hang you naked from the steeple. Oh wait, you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

"No, it is far too cold for that. Perhaps in the summer. Ah, but for the pressing issues, have you chosen a name yet?"

Arthur scoffed, "Alfred and I aren't like you, with a whole bloody list of names before we even conceive. We're waiting until we see the baby's personality."

"Oh, that's a terrible way to name your child. Simply look at what characteristics it could possibly inherit from you two! But, ah, in all things opportunity: you should name him after me! Surely no matter how base your offspring turns out to be such a beautiful name would bring a bit of class into that dingy old house of yours!"

"Why would I name him after someone as slimy as you, Frog? Even if our lives were as unsophisticated as you claim, which they're not, I wouldn't want a constant reminder of why I hate every single second I spend in this bloody house!"

"You may as well simply say you'll name him something completely crass. Save your breath for a time when your unsophisticated words will not befoul my air."

"I don't understand why this is even an issue," Arthur huffed and took a swig of ale, which was quite low thanks to his family's collective manhandling, "It's my bloody baby and I'll name him whatever I want to."

"Oh, but of course," Francis smiled, "So you'll understand why I will still call him Louis or Charles or something equally elegant instead of refusing to use whatever common name you chose?"

"Of course I'll understand. I know you think you're the center of the entire bloody universe. But then you'll understand that by the time you first see him I'll have trained him to kick you whenever you do something abominable."

"Oh? How do you plan to teach your nameless child to do that?"

"Well, as you're always doing something abominable I'll mostly just teach him to hate you and that violence is always acceptable when it comes to monsters."

"So harsh, Arthur! Truly you wound me!"

"The words of someone with nothing left to say."

"Actually, I did have something to mention." He cleared his throat and turned to address the entire room, breaking up a few arguments, "Dinner is ready! Will someone go to get everyone who's disappeared somewhere?"

Liam nodded and went into the hall to retrieve Alfred and Dad, who seemed to be the only ones missing for once. Arthur just sort of followed the rest of his family into the large dining room. He took his seat, leaving his hands in his lap. For the first time, he actually wrapped his arms around his belly and left them there, just to hold and protect the child within.

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><p>"Thanks for giving us our own room again, Mr. Kirkland," Alfred said, placing the bags on the bed.<p>

"It's not as though we don't have the space," Mr. Kirkland said, "It was just a question of getting David to go and sleep with his brothers. I had to promise him you wouldn't do anything, so don't make me a liar."

Alfred blushed, "N-No, of course not!" They weren't even considering it. How awkward would it be to fuck in Arthur's dad's house? They had barely kissed all that time they'd lived together. "Well, we'd better get back before an all-out brawl starts." He stood to leave, but Mr. Kirkland got between him and the way out, "Don't worry. My sons are idiots, but none of them are that thick," he shut the door. Fuck. "I was hoping that we could stay and talk for a little while. About Arthur." Double fuck. He gently pushed Alfred's shoulder, guiding him down to sit on the bed.

Oh, hell, he thought that he had avoided the "if you do anything to hurt my precious baby" speech after he'd managed not to get cornered by Mr. Kirkland up until well after their wedding. He was a scary guy: even if his hair was white and he'd gone to seed he was still taller than Alfred and every bit as broad, and that ignored the fact that he had lived through raising James, Danny, Liam, and Arthur all alone while managing and working a huge farm. Of course, Alfred had spent his entire life with _his _dad, who was six and a half feet tall and constantly looked angry, but it didn't stop the fear from bubbling in his stomach just a little bit.

"Have you ever wondered why Arthur is so much shorter than his brothers?"

Alfred was taken aback by the question, just because it was not at all what he was expecting and, to make it worse, nothing he'd so much as though about, "I donno. I just always assumed that he got it from his mom or something."

Mr. Kirkland let out a harsh laugh, "No, Neil was even taller than me. He was tall and slim and pale and gorgeous."

"Then why…?"

Alfred couldn't help but be curious now that Mr. Kirkland brought up his deceased husband. Very early on he'd asked Arthur about his family, and he told all sorts of stories about his brothers and dad, but Alfred noticed that he never mentioned his mother. He'd asked, of course, but all of his questions were just answered with a stiff, "Mum died a long time ago and I don't have any good stories to tell about him." Often he'd then go into a story about a different family member after that. Alfred had kept trying, but eventually he simply gave up. If Arthur didn't want to talk Alfred couldn't make him.

"Well listen closely," Mr. Kirkland said, "It's a very tough story for me to tell. I don't think that I've actually told it in full before. This is the story of how Neil died."

"But I thought you said this was about Arthur's height."

"I never said the two weren't related. Now no questions until I finish and listen closely. I don't want to have to repeat myself."

Out of pure curiosity more than anything, Alfred sat up straight.

"Neil and I were very in love. Normally, the passion in a marriage leaves after the first few children but ours never did. We had the first three in close succession. There's only a year each between James, Danny and Liam, and after that we thought we were done. But then six years after that we decided that we still weren't satisfied and wanted another. Neil was twenty-eight at the time, and the healers said that he would be perfectly fine.

"He was for a good long time. But then some point when he was carrying Arthur he got sick. I'm not sure when exactly it happened, but by the time he was seven months along he was acting very strangely. He was much quieter and more docile than he had been with the others. Normally he'd be aggressive and defensive, but this time I couldn't get him to move, I could barely get him to eat. I asked him what was wrong, but he always just brushed me off and pretended that it was nothing. I still can't forgive myself for believing him." He took a few deep breaths, starting to be overcome with emotion, but when Alfred stood to help him, Mr. Kirkland just gestured for him to sit back down.

"I can still remember that day perfectly." He continued, "He was just sitting there, peeling potatoes, and the next thing he let out a shout and collapsed. He was grabbing at his stomach and wincing in pain. I knelt down next to him and asked him what was wrong and he just said, 'everything's fine, Joey, I'm just dying.'

"Obviously, I wasn't just going to let that happen. I picked him up and ran into town as fast as I could, praying that someone somewhere could help us. I went where everyone else goes: to Nathan's house. He wasn't the main healer yet, though, so really it was his mum's house. He actually answered the door, though, if I remember right. I sent him to run and get his mother. After that we all crowded around Neil, who just had that look on his face like we were all idiots," His lips curled up into a smile, "He was sardonic and brisk and pretended to have everything under control all the way to the end. Arthur reminds me of him so much sometimes. And the expressions, God, the looks are exactly the same. He never saw his mother, but it's as though he simply knows somehow. But I'm getting off track, trying to ignore the worst part. If I do that again, tell me, alright?"

Alfred nodded.

"Good lad. Now, as I was saying, Neil was laid out on this special bed they have for the worst of their patients. 'Don't just stand there,' he said, 'I knew it would be me or him. For God's sake, don't let me die for nothing.' I asked him what he was talking about and he looked at me like I was the stupidest thing to ever breathe, 'Arthur, dammit. Save Arthur. I tried to at least make it to term, but I couldn't quite do it. Doesn't matter though. He should be able to survive if you cut him out right here, right now.'

"I tried to convince him that it would be okay, that there was some way that both of them could survive, but no. Even the healers agreed with him. They said that even if there _was _a way initially, it was too late. No matter what we did my husband would die. So what else could I do?" He swallowed hard, "I had to watch the man I had trusted to save the only person I ever loved slice him open instead. Neil was still conscious through the entire thing. He refused to die until he saw that Arthur was alright. Well, as you know, he lived, but I was almost certain he wouldn't at the time. He was so tiny. I knew that wasn't ready. They had to take him away and put all sorts of spells on him so that he'd survive. I don't know if it was the spells or just that he was early, but he didn't grow as quickly as the others and he never got to be as big.

"The entire time I stayed with Neil. I held his hand as he died. 'Now listen,' he told me, 'You'd better do a damn good job raising our boys, or I'll make sure you go straight to hell when you die.' I think he knew when they saved Arthur, because he looked straight at me and smiled and then just died. I didn't find out for a few more minutes, just because they needed to make sure, but I'm sure it was the same exact moment.

"I couldn't even have Arthur right away. They had to keep him under careful observation to make sure he'd actually survive. There were a few very close calls during the night. It wasn't until after Neil's funeral that I actually got to see what he had died for. I was mad. I was so fucking angry with him, even if he'd had no control over the situation, even though Neil had_ told_ me to take care of him.

"Once I actually got to see him I knew, though, that I couldn't hate him. He has Neil's eyes, his face, and an almost disturbingly similar personality. As he got older the similarities became more and more uncanny. I try to love all my children the same, I really do. But Arthur's always been special to me and I think it's because of how close he is to his mother. And now… Now he's pregnant and even though I know it's different there's still this fear that he'll end up the exact same way."

He was trying not to cry. Hell, _Alfred_ was trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm really, really sorry."

"That's just the past," Mr. Kirkland said, "Do you know why I told you all that? That's the important bit."

Alfred nodded, "Yeah, I think so. I'll look after Arthur, and after this one I'll see if I can talk him into letting me be the mom instead. I don't want you to lose him too."

"No, that's not it at all. I don't want _anyone _in my family to die before me," He smiled, "but I'm an old man and that probably won't be much longer."

"Don't say that!" Was Alfred's knee-jerk reaction.

Mr. Kirkland just laughed, "It's true, and I don't mind. It's been a good life. But this isn't about me. What I want to tell you is take care of Arthur, not for me, not for him, but for yourself. No man should have to go through what I did, especially my own son-in-law. Just keep an eye on him, alright? Don't go running off to Nathan's whenever he coughs, but if something doesn't feel right talk to him, try to convince him to open up to you. He's as rough as we all are, but he really does love you."

"Thanks?"

He smiled, "You're welcome."

The rest of the night Alfred sat around and thought. He hadn't thought about the possibility of losing Arthur, or even just losing the baby and he liked it better that way. And even though Mr. Kirkland had said that not everything was life-threatening, but how much was safe to ignore? In the end, he couldn't think about it. He felt too drained to think about _anything. _When Danny came to get them for dinner at a table filled with noise and laughter everything seemed almost grey. He still smiled and laughed with everyone else, but it was all hollow. Usually Francis's cooking cheered him up, but in spite of how much he ate it still felt meaningless.

"You were awfully quiet since your talk with dad," Arthur said as they snuggled in bed later that night, "What did he threaten you with this time?"

"He didn't."

Arthur looked back over his shoulder at him.

"No, really he didn't. H-he told me how your mom died."

"Oh," Arthur said, pulling his knees closer to his chest, "That."

"I don't want it to happen to you."

"I don't either." He was quiet for a moment, staring out at the dark, "But don't worry. It won't. Thanks to the war, we have all sorts of new medical spells. Funny how those things work."

"But what if it does? I want you to promise me you won't die."

Arthur sighed sadly, "No one can promise that, Alfred."

"Please."

"What would you have me do?" Arthur asked softly. Alfred could tell he was rubbing his stomach, "Even if there was some point where too much was resting on my shoulders and I could justify trading one of my children's life for my own, I don't think I ever could. Until the day I died my conscience would never be clear. I'd have to sit there and wonder what would have happened if Mum did that to me, why my life was so important that I could give up my baby but his wasn't."

"Arthur..."

"But Alfred, I can promise you one thing," he turned around to look him in the eye, "I swear that should I _ever _start feeling like something was wrong I would do everything in my power to make it better, and that includes letting you know. I can't promise that we'll never face that choice, but I can make it as hard as possible and I can make it so that you're with me every step of the way, alright?" He kissed the back of Alfred's hand but kept eye contact.

"Alright."

Arthur smiled, "Okay, then. I'm here, I'm healthy, and I'm happy. And I'm going to stay right here the entire night so that if you need to you'll have a reminder of that. But if you need it in so many words, I don't plan on going _anywhere _soon, except to sleep." He turned back around and pressed backwards into Alfred.

"Thank you," Alfred whispered, clutching him closely, "Thank you so much."

He splayed his fingers across Arthur's stomach, reminding himself that everything was okay. It was then that he felt something: just a little tiny bit of pressure against his hand coming from inside of Arthur.

"Do you feel that?" He asked.

"You felt it too?" Arthur rolled over onto his back and managed to fit a hand next to Alfred's on top of his belly.

Alfred felt it three more times: tiny little kicks. His _baby's _tiny little kicks. Even after it settled down, apparently pleased with its new position, Arthur and Alfred just laid there completely frozen.

"Holy Hell," Alfred finally said, smile creeping across his face, "Artie, that was our baby. He just moved. That was the first time right?"

Arthur was still just sitting there, staring at the ceiling, hand on his stomach.

"You alright in there? Artie?"

He saw tears in Arthur's eyes and cold fear rushed through him. What had happened? What was wrong?

"Alfred, my God, our baby is inside of me."

"I know, Artie. I know. Are you okay, though?"

"I'm better than okay, but you don't understand. There is a real, living person in there. And my God, it moved. I didn't do _anything. _Oh, Freddie, it was all _him." _

"You called me Freddie. You _never _call me Freddie."

"It doesn't bloody matter!" He wrapped his arms around Alfred and kissed him over and over again, "Oh, if we weren't in my nephew's room we could make love all night. I love you so much!" Arthur pulled him in for a steamy kiss.

The baby started kicking again as they continued kissing, occasionally making Arthur look down and smile or giggle like an idiot. Alfred wondered to himself why their baby chose then to start moving. Maybe it was from all the stress of the day. Maybe Arthur's actual stomach was bearing down on him a little too hard (Alfred had watched him fill his plate at least three times, and that wasn't counting desert or how much he drank). In the end, he decided that he preferred to think that somehow the baby had known that Alfred needed reassurance and delivered it in the only way he knew how.

All Alfred really knew was that they were one step closer to becoming parents, that he loved his new little family with all his heart, that all of them were safe and happy, and that was all he needed.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Long chapter is looooong (17 pages WTF?). And it's all one scene, technically. It's a long day for Artie. Also: you get to see a little bit of both religion and medical science here. Aren't you all lucky?

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><p>The stars were beautiful. They were bright in the sky, so much more vivid than the last time Arthur had bothered to look at them. He had never really paid attention to how numerous they were either, most of his life just settling on "a lot." But he hadn't thought past that, wondered how many days it would take him to be able to count that high if they made numbers that large. It had been a long time since he'd actually gone out to look at the stars. With how cold it was getting at night, he preferred to lie between Alfred and the hearth whenever possible so that he had heat coming from both sides.<p>

The baby inside of him wriggled a little bit, but it wasn't a proper kick. Arthur placed his hand on his belly and rubbed a little circle, more out of habit than anything else. The child stilled, but most likely he'd just finished getting into a new position. For a moment Arthur wondered if that movement was a shiver, if it meant that his baby was cold. Then realized that for the baby to be cold, _he'd _have to be cold first. Arthur scowled to himself. He hated it when Alfred was right, and he was vindicating the boy more and more often when it came to his common accusation of calling Arthur a worrywart.

"You alright there?" said boy asked.

"Yeah," Arthur replied, squeezing his hand, "The stars are just nice."

"Mmm," He stopped walking for a second to stare skyward, but as soon as he tilted his head up for a split second he went back to running, "Okay, yep, now let's get a move on. I wanna get to the festival! Come on, the winter solstice only comes once a year!"

Arthur snorted and teasingly said, "You're just looking forward to being able to gorge yourself on all sorts of food without having to wait for me to keep up."

"No, don't be silly. I'm looking forward to being able to play games all night without having to fight you every step of the way for once."

"Alfred," Arthur said in a very serious tone, "Give me your purse."

"No."

"Alfred."

"Nope." He smiled devilishly.

"I would like to eat sometime before spring, Alfred."

"Blah, blah, blah, your needs." He pulled the bag from his belt and swirled it around his finger.

Arthur waited for just the right moment and then snatched it away.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"I don't think so." He grinned, stretching his arm behind his back.

"Thief! Thief! I've been robbed!" Alfred shouted, trying to reach for the pouch, but not being able to get even close, thanks to Arthur's belly.

Arthur just laughed at his husband's desperate attempts, "Sorry, Alfred. The baby and I took a vote and we decided that it's a good idea to keep you from spending our firewood and food money."

"How would you know what he decided?"

"Well, he seems to be helping my cause at the moment."

"Come on, Artie! Ooh! I got an idea." He smirked, "I'll bottom tonight. I'll spread my legs as wide as you want and let you do whatever perverted things you can come up with. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Arthur floundered for a moment. Was that even possible at this point? He was torn between "My back would ache horribly for _days," _"Dear God, Alfred, we're in public!"and "Oh yes, I would like that very much."

It had been a long, long time since he'd been inside Alfred. They'd barely been doing anything since Arthur's belly started getting cumbersome and they only had found three positions that worked with it. Arthur hadn't even really thought about topping for a long, long time, except for the occasional dirty dream where he was back to normal. In real life he was enjoying the extra safety he felt whenever he was beneath his husband too much for being dominant to even cross his mind.

Alfred took advantage of Arthur's distraction to get around him and grab his purse back.

"Bastard," Arthur muttered.

Alfred laughed triumphantly and clipped it back to his belt beneath his cloak where Arthur couldn't get to it.

They continued bickering good-naturedly until they reached the village square. It was as bright as day with all the fires burning. The sound of music and laughter filled the air. There were so many vivid colors on the booths that had materialized since earlier in the day when there had been a far more serious religious service on the same cobblestones. The scent of food and fire was so thick that it was almost visible. Alfred let go of Arthur to step further into the light and inhale deeply.

"Oh God I love festivals," he said, he turned back to Arthur and held his hand out.

Arthur decided to humor him and came over to take his hand back. Alfred smiled and pulled him into a hug.

"I hope you have even half as much fun at your preggo thing as I do tonight."

"I've heard that it's a rather pleasant experience, so I should be perfectly fine."

"Still, let me walk you over."

"What am I? A child?"

"Nah, you should know better. I just wanna do it once. This is our first, remember?"

"Of course I know that," he snapped, a bit more harshly than he would have usually.

Alfred smiled, "Aw, you starting to get nervous, Artie?"

"Maybe a little." Arthur admitted, "But I have a right to be! This is only my first and I'm already twenty-three. Some of the boys there are sixteen. Not to mention that I'll probably be the biggest one there since everyone who could be further along would have gone to the summer one. And-"

Alfred gave him a little kiss on the cheek, "That's okay. No matter how much I tease you, you're not an old man. And that just means that you had more fun experiences to talk about from before you had kids. And Mattie's gonna be there, and you saw him earlier today so you _know_ he looks like he's about to pop."

"That's true, I suppose."

"Besides, it's not about who's how old and who's how big, it's a way for you to spend time with people who're going through what you're going through."

Arthur snorted. "How would you know that?"

"You're not the only one who talks to Kiku," Alfred said, laughing.

"I suppose so," Arthur said, "And thanks… I guess."

He allowed Alfred to lead him over to the church doors, which were closed to keep the heat in and give the men inside a bit of privacy.

"Well, I can't take you any further," Alfred said smiling, "But I'll see you soon, okay? I promise that I'll try to keep my spending down to ten coppers, a silver max."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Oh, alright. But only because I won't be spending anything."

"Awesome." He leaned in, for what Arthur assumed to be a kiss on the cheek, but instead was him whispering, "And I meant it about topping. If you don't have it in you to do it tonight, let's try for tomorrow." He gave his cold ear a lick, making him shiver.

And then he was gone, Arthur opened the door and found that there were eight others waiting in the vestibule talking. Three of them were obviously pregnant, although none of them looked like they were as far along as he was, but the other five looked completely normal. Of course, it was hard to tell under the cloaks. Hell, most of them looked so _young. _Only two of them looked like they could be a day over twenty-five, and Arthur would be shocked if any of the four huddled in the corner were even Alfred's age. He felt terribly out of place, and that was only made worse by the fact that he didn't know a single one of them and he was rubbish at making friends.

Thankfully, just as it was starting to sink in that he would probably be awkward and alone all night, the door opened again and Matthew peeked in. Arthur pulled him inside, just so he didn't look so lonely and pathetic.

"Hello there, Matthew," Arthur said, honestly relieved, "It's nice to see you. How have you been?"

"I'm good," he looked down and grimaced, "Well, all things considered."

My, it was hard to hear him over the others' words reflecting off the stone and time. He'd always been so damn quiet, "Aches?" Arthur guessed.

"Oh, you have no idea. And I still have four more months of this. Gil has some family issues going on in Alke. He asked me if I wanted to come, but I don't even know if I can ride a horse at this point. I'm staying with mom and dad."

"Come to think of it, I do remember Alfred saying something like that."

He laughed, "Mom's so worried that he doesn't make me do anything."

"That must be nice."

"Yeah, he lets me lie in bed all day and not do anything. I've been reading a whole lot and I made plenty of blankets for the twins." He rubbed his stomach protectively, "So how've you been?"

"I'm surprised Alfred didn't talk your ear off about it when he went to visit last week."

"Well, he did. He and mom were in a room together. Whenever that happens there's no such thing as silence. But he doesn't necessarily know how you've been, just how he thinks you've been."

"I've been alright." Arthur said, shrugging, "My feet are starting to swell, I have to piss all the time, and he," he placed his hand on his stomach to let Matthew know who he was talking about, "likes to wake me up in the middle of the night by trying to kick his way right out of me," Matthew laughed sympathetically at that, "but I've been holding up."

"Alfred's not being a complete ass, is he?"

"No, just a complete moron."

"Well if he wasn't he wouldn't be Alfred."

Arthur allowed himself to smile at that.

Slowly, the inner doors began to open, inviting them all into the nave.

"Are you ready?" Matthew asked.

"Well if I wasn't there wouldn't be much I could do," Arthur replied.

"Right, right. Well, then, let's go." Matthew grabbed his hand and pulled him through the large wooden doors.

All of the pews had been moved. Arthur could see them stacked neatly along the walls. In their place was a big table, filled with more food than the ten of them could possibly eat.

Like hell Arthur wasn't going to try, though.

…Fucking Alfred, passing his appetite on to his child.

Ooh… fucking Alfred…

Arthur's mind was barraged with memories of Alfred, spread-eagled on the bed and waiting for him and only him, flushed with arousal and so desperate.

He then remembered that whether the pews were in place or not he was still in a church. He banished the thought, blushed, and silently begged God for forgiveness.

Nathan walked out between them and the table, moving much too briskly for a man of sixty-some years. He quickly counted them and smiled, making the lines around his eyes even deeper.

"Oh lovely, everyone's here on time. It's great when that happens because that means you all get more time to relax. Anyway, for those of you who may not know me, my name is Nathan. I've been the head healer in this town for almost twenty years now, I'm married to the high priest, I've had five beautiful children with him, and I believe that's my standard introduction. Is that right?" He looked to the side, where Arthur saw several young men carrying kettles were standing. The men nodded, "Oh good. My memory's not going yet after all. Now, as only utterly evil people who go into healing we've assigned you all seats. This group is a bit larger than usual and we want you to talk to each other."

He went around the table and directed everyone to where they were supposed to go. Arthur ended up on one of the end seats next to a boy named Jack. He didn't really want to call him a man. He was small and thin except for his bulging stomach (he was one of the few that actually looked pregnant) and his cheeks were still smooth, not scraped smooth like a man's were supposed to be. He was the second son of a butcher who'd gotten married just the past spring to the carpenter's son, which Arthur vaguely remembered hearing about once he thought about it. It was all very nice and normal, the kind of life Arthur had dreamed of as a boy and could scarcely fathom now.

"But what about you?" Jack asked, "You said that this was your first too, so you've _got _to have a cool story about how you met your husband!"

"Well, I suppose you could look at it that way," Arthur said, sighing and setting down his teacup (the tea was delicious, but it was making him feel a bit odd. They'd been told to drink a lot of it, though, and he trusted Nathan). "Well, I've actually known my husband since I was fifteen. His parents are soldiers, so when the war started they needed someone to watch their boys, and, well, that was me. Eventually his brother, who is actually right over there," he pointed to Matthew, who was listening with interest to a larger man who may have been Arthur's age, "Went off to war too, leaving us alone. After that-"

"Wait, why didn't your husband go too?"

"Oh, right," Arthur coughed, "Well, he would have been a liability. Alfred's - that's his name, Alfred – his powers are stunted."

"Oh my gosh, you're that guy!"

"What guy?"

"The one who married the blind boy!"

Arthur glared at him, "He's not blind, and he's older than you."

Jack blushed, "I'm sorry, but that's how we all knew him around town. He'd always be led around by somebody or else he'd walk into things. I actually remember him coming into my dad's shop a few times. When I was a kid if I was around when he came in I'd talk to him. I remember that he was really nice and outgoing, especially considering…"

Arthur smiled and couldn't help but brush his fingers against his belly lightly, "Yes, that's him."

"Wow, Arthur you _have _to tell me the rest of the story!"

Arthur talked about their lives, how they'd fallen in love and had to hide it before deciding to get married, how they lived, what they did for money, all the way up through Alfred making his glasses and their decision to start a family. Jack held onto his every word. Arthur didn't think that anyone had ever listened to him like that before. He almost felt bad when he had to stop to eat or drink, but eventually he got through. They talked back and forth for a while, talking about their daily lives and sharing stories. Arthur was starting to grow fond of the boy by the time that everyone had finished and Nathan told everyone to have another cup of tea and follow him.

Arthur was really starting to feel strange now. He felt hot and noticed every little thing that touched him from the way his hair and clothes shifted when he moved, to the shape of the chair, to the smallest breath of air that passed his face. Still, he got up and went with everyone else down beneath the church.

He was surprised to see that the smooth man-made walls of the crypt below slowly turned into a natural cave. Candles lit the way and he smelled sulfur. Where were they taking them? He placed his arms around his belly. As they went further the air grew more humid and it was starting to get even warmer than before. Then, all of a sudden he saw the light reflecting in a pool of water.

"Welcome to the hot spring," Nathan said, "Every church is built on one, and this is ours. It's said that all life crawled onto land from places like these, where God has taken water and warmed it with neither sun nor fire. That's why our blood flows hot and our children are suspended in liquid before birth. I'm not a priest, I'm a healer. I can't tell you how much of that's true because I don't know for sure, but I do know that whenever I was allowed to go in, especially when I was with child, I always felt better going out than I had coming in.

"Now, we're going to try to make this go as quickly as possible." He pointed to a shelf with ten baskets on top, "I need each of you to take one of those baskets. In it there should be a black robe. Now, this is important: take the robe off, put your clothes in there, and then put the robe back on top. While you're in there one of my assistants is going to call you out one at a time. When that happens, put the robe on and come into that room over there," he pointed to a door next to the shelf, "That's when I'll examine you and tell you what exactly you're carrying. Any questions?"

Arthur looked around. No one raised their hand or spoke up.

"Good," Nathan said, smiling, "Now go in there and relax. Remember, this is all for your sakes." And with that he left and shut himself in the room.

Arthur felt awkward as he changed. At least he'd gone back to being next to Matthew, so he didn't feel too big compared to everyone else. He felt better once he was actually in the spring with the water distorting the image of his swollen stomach. He pressed his cheek against a rock and allowed himself to relax. He felt like he could just sit there forever, loving the warmth and the way that the water made him feel lighter. Matthew seemed to have the same idea, leaning back with his eyes closed.

God, he looked so much like Alfred. For a moment Arthur wanted him there. He wanted to share his comfort and peace with his husband. But, he thought as he rubbed his stomach, it was nice to be away from him too. It was a reminder that even though they'd been joined at the hip for months they were still different people, capable of functioning alone. The baby kicked a little bit, meaning that they'd probably been in the church for three hours (he was like a clock: whenever he stopped moving for more than ten minutes it would be exactly three hours until he started again. Arthur hoped that the baby would somehow learn to sleep longer before he was born. He'd learned to sleep through kicking, but he didn't think that he could do the same for screaming.) He rubbed soothing circles on his skin and simply stopped thinking. It was so easy then to just sit there and stare at the opposite wall. People were called into the room and came back and he didn't pay any attention.

That is, until one came back crying.

It was one of the boys who was barely showing. Jack (who'd shouted out to all of them upon his return that he was having one healthy boy) came over to him and touched his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

The boy wrapped his arms around Jack's scrawny frame, "It's a girl. I'm having a girl. How am I going to tell Paul?"

Jack gasped and held him tight, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"What am I going to do, Jack? What _can _I do?"

"You can give her up," Matt said, suddenly awake and strangely forceful.

"That's easy for you to say!" The boy accused.

"Yeah, because I know that she'll be fine with the women, and I know what'll happen if you don't send her."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really!"

"Matt!" the assistant called.

"Oh, that's me," He pulled himself into a standing position and got out of the spring. He smiled at Arthur, "Wish me luck, okay?"

Arthur smiled back, "Of course."

"Who does he think he is?" The boy from before said, "He can't tell me what to do. I know! I can hide her, tell everyone she died and-"

"Don't. You. Dare." Arthur said, glaring at him.

"Now you've got it out for me too? Come on, won't it be better if she's with her real parents?"

"It'll be better if she has her magic," Arthur said, "You have no idea, do you? No idea at all. My husband's so-called real parents held onto him for two weeks. The only reason that he has any kind of life worth living is because he's brilliant and he's worked to perfect the few abilities he still has and because he's had people supporting him his entire life. Two weeks. And if you're still thinking about it, I'll tell him what you're planning. Even without his powers he could break you in half."

"Okay, okay, jeez." He looked away.

Arthur just hoped that he had at least convinced his friends so that they'd try to stop him. He didn't know if the prick would listen himself.

But then again… he didn't actually know how it felt to have to give up a child. He hoped he wouldn't have to, but for the first time he really thought about it. Alfred's parents were both women, was it possible for gender to just skip a generation? Now he was scared. He knew he would have to give it up, but he really, _really _didn't want to.

"Twins!" Matthew said, sliding back into the water, "Twin boys, just like I thought. Gil's going to be so- What's wrong, Arthur?"

He heart the assistant call his name, "N-nothing. I'll talk to you when I get back."

"Well, alright…" Matt said softly as Arthur clambered out, feeling bigger and fatter than ever after the water had taken so much of his weight.

He pulled the robe on and tied it shut before entering the room.

"You wanted to see me?" He asked.

"Oh, Arthur Kirkland. Or is it Oxenstierna now? I usually only see people when they're born, giving birth, or about to die. It's hard enough for me to remember everyone's name once."

"We went with Kirkland. Since we're both the youngest we picked the name that was easier to pronounce."

Nathan laughed, "Fair enough. Now, just lie on that couch and relax for a moment or two." He started shuffling through papers.

"What are those?"

"Notes on various patients. Everybody has one, which we keep in our archives. I need yours, your husband's, and I also have a special one for all the births that are supposed to happen this half of the year."

"Alright," Arthur said, sitting, "What sort of notes?"

"Hopefully not many. If you want you can see yours and Alfred's. Once we're done."

"No, that's fine," Arthur said, wanting to get back to the spring quickly.

"Both of them are pretty boring anyway. Yours has your birth, which is mainly how early you were and what we did to make you live, yearly visits, that you came in to get pregnant once and were told to gain weight, and that you were given permission to have a baby a month later. Well," he scribbled something down, "Here we are today." He set down the paper and went over to Arthur to begin examining him.

It was all very routine in the beginning. He looked at his eyes and mouth for any obvious signs of sickness. Then he asked Arthur to spread his legs and started poking around down there. He explained that it wasn't uncommon for men to have things happen to their testicles during pregnancy that they simply didn't notice because they didn't see them. Arthur didn't know what "things" were and didn't want to. He was just glad his were okay.

"Now this," he coated a finger in what looked suspiciously like slick, "I'm sorry about. But it's really, really, important." He slid the finger into Arthur's ass. Shit, it was slick. He pushed it in all the way and began to fell around, which made Arthur uncomfortable more than anything. "Oh good," he said, pulling back out and wiping his hand on a towel, "It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"Before you conceive there's a small flap inside of you, similar to the one in your neck that blocks the tube to your lungs while you're eating and the one to your stomach when you're not."

"Uh-huh."

"But in this case it opens a pathway to your womb. Normally within two months of conception it disappears because otherwise you're much more likely to miscarry or give birth wrong. It's not nice and I've seen both happen. But you're fine thankfully."

"So what's next?" Arthur asked, fearing what could happen to top that.

"Now's the fun part. I'm going to need to see your stomach, so please undo the robe."

"Right." He undid the tie and allowed it to fall open when he laid back again.

Nathan ran his hands over Arthur's stomach and the baby kicked.

"Hi to you too," he said, "I'll get to you in a moment."

He pressed Arthur's hips, which Arthur neither expected nor enjoyed.

"No extra pelvic stress, that's good. Now," he stood and poured a cup of tea, "Arthur, I need you to drink this."

"More of that stuff?" he asked, taking the cup nonetheless, "What does it do anyway?"

"Relaxes you for one, but it also thins your aura and lets me feel through it to the baby's. Most of the time what you have at dinner is enough, but you Kirklands all have such thick, lovely auras."

Once Arthur had drunk all of the tea, Nathan placed his hands on Arthur's belly again, this time placing his palms flat on it instead of just brushing it with his fingers. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

"I'm seeing it," he said, "You've got a single and it's yellow. I'll need to go a bit deeper to get gender." He pressed his eyes together tighter. For a few moments, Arthur watched with fear, hoping and praying that it would be a boy. Then Nathan smiled, "Congratulations, Mr. Kirkland," he said, opening his eyes, "You're having a son."

Arthur let out a sigh of relief. As he left the room and went back into the spring, he felt very limp and loose. He didn't feel the joy until he was in there for a while. It took a good while until he was able to feel anything except for immense relief.

It hit him on the way back up, and he had to hold onto Matthew and cry for three minutes before he could keep going.

As soon as he left the church, Arthur heard someone call his name. He turned to see Alfred bounding towards him with a huge smile on his face. Arthur held out his arms, expecting one of Alfred's overly-enthusiastic hugs. What he didn't expect was for Alfred to hold him tightly and spin until his feet flew off the ground. Arthur let out a squawk and demanded to be set down. With a laugh, Alfred helped him to get settled back on his feet.

"Missed you, babe," he said.

"That's no reason to- I mean what would possess you to-" he was finding it hard to concentrate with the other men laughing in the background, "Let's just go home, idiot."

Alfred smiled and reached for Arthur's belly, "Okay, whatever you say, mommy."

Before he had the chance to do anything else stupid, Arthur just grabbed his wrist and dragged him away. Alfred just kept on laughing until they were out of the crowd and walking down along the darkened shops on the way back to theirs.

It was silent for a while as the two of them walked side by side except for the noises of the party still going on in the background, which faded along with the light as they got further and further away. It began to snow again, coating their cloaks in a white dust. Alfred hurried ahead of Arthur and turned back to look at him.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.

"Sorry, I wanted to wait until we got home, but I just can't anymore. I gotta know. What's the news?" His tone was serious enough that Arthur had to stare right back and listen, even though it was hard to see his face in the shadows.

"News?"

"Are we having a girl or a boy?"

That explained it. Alfred had every right to be worried. He'd grown almost as attached to the child as Arthur had.

"Ah," he said, "That." As he couldn't bear to string him along at a time like that, he smiled and placed his hand on his stomach, "It's a boy."

For a moment, Alfred just stood there, most likely thinking the same thoughts Arthur had a few hours ago, processing that their baby would actually be theirs, that they'd get to raise him together. However, he seemed to process it faster because within a few seconds a smile split across his face and he pulled Arthur in for a kiss. His hands went up to rub Arthur's stomach, making him shudder. Arthur decided to let the father have his moment, even if it was getting rather difficult to hold back the moans building up in his throat.

"Oh, God, Arthur, I love you so much. I'm so happy you have no idea. Oh, _God-"_

Arthur laughed and took one hand away from his stomach, planting kisses on Alfred's knuckles.

"You're amazing," Alfred said, "I love you."

Arthur felt himself blushing, "I love you too. Now let's go home. I'd like to lie down."

Alfred wilted a little, "So no sexytime?"

Dear Lord, he'd recovered quickly. Arthur walked around him, wanting to get out of the cold.

"Come on baby!"

"I never said we couldn't have sex. I would just like to relax for a moment."

"So we're on?" Alfred asked, catching up with a smile bright as day across his face.

"I think so. It just depends on how much your overexcitement drains me during the walk."

"Alright then, I can totally carry you and junior back to our-"

"No."

"Okay, okay. So what did you guys do in there? Other than find out the good news and stuff."

"Well, there was this massive feast set up for us. There were so many different kinds of food, and they were all fantastic. I swear that I'm noticeably fatter then when I went in."

"I'll be the judge of that," Alfred rubbed his belly appreciatively.

Arthur slapped his hand away, "save that until we're back home."

"Fine," Alfred said, sighing melodramatically.

"Control yourself, idiot. Now where was I? Oh, that's right," he lifted his hand to cover his grin, "You should have seen the boys who were still getting morning sickness. Most of them looked like they were going to throw up."

"That's just mean," Alfred said, even though he was smiling too.

"Yes, well. Then they brought us this tea. It tasted fantastic, but it made me feel strange."

"Strange?"

"Yeah."

"Strange how?"

"I felt calmer, more comfortable, but my skin was oversensitive. Apparently it's so that Nathan could detect our son's aura."

"Is it still?" Alfred asked, smiling wolfishly. He had ignored everything past oversensitive skin, hadn't he?

"H-hey! Remember who's topping tonight!"

"Doesn't mean that I still can't have my fun," he ran one finger lightly across Arthur's backside, making him shiver.

"Alfred-" His voice was a little breathier than the condescending tone he was hoping to produce.

"Do you know how hard it was for me?" Oh hell, Alfred had slipped into his bedroom voice, "The entire time you were in there, all I could think about was you in that hot spring Kiku talked about. Naked. Flushed. Relaxed. Damp. Happy. God, I wanted you so bad."

"You can have me," Arthur said, letting the fact that they were almost at their house become more important than the fact that Kiku had told Alfred but not him. He ran up to the door and opened it, "Just go in there and get naked."

Alfred wasted no time getting inside and bounding up the stairs like an excited puppy, even though it was pitch-dark. After hanging up his cloak and taking off his booths, Arthur summoned witchfire and followed him at a much more reasonable pace.

When he reached the bedroom Alfred was kneeling next to the hearth. The fire was long out (it would have been stupid to have left it going while they were gone. Covered in snow or not, the thatch roof would still burn)

"I can start it," Arthur said, "Just go get more wood."

"No, I _so _got this." Alfred turned to him and smiled, "Besides, I brought everything in earlier, remember?"

"Alfred, we don't have time for-" He heard a metallic clicking, and then suddenly there was light.

"How did you do that?" Arthur asked, kneeling next to Alfred and watching the little fire spread rapidly.

He just smiled and held out an odd metal tube about six inches tall. He pressed his thumb on a little lever on the side, it clicked again, and then there was a tiny flame coming from the top.

"Alfred, what is that?"

"I don't know what to call it yet, but it's a non-magical way to make fire. This little tube is full of oil, and there's a wick in there that the oil travels up. At the top I've got a little bit of flint that makes a spark and then, whoosh, fire!"

"Can I try it?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah," Alfred blew out the fire and handed it over, "I just finished it today, and I wanted to surprise you. Okay, so hold it like that, and then press right here."

Biting his teeth, Arthur pushed it. Nothing happened. He tried again and again to no avail.

"It takes a while sometimes," Alfred said, "It'll help if you-"

But then all of a sudden it caught. Arthur let out a cry of surprise and dropped it. Thankfully, it fell to the stone of the hearth and not onto the wood floor. Alfred picked it up and blew it out.

"That was good, you had it there!"

"Alfred, this isn't about me. It's about you and you're absolutely fantastic," Arthur said, eyes falling to half-mast, "You deserve such a reward for this," he kissed Alfred's ear.

"Mmm, that's why I asked you to top. I've missed it."

"No, you need more than that."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Arthur breathed.

"Are you gonna have another kid? Because that's what happened the last time and-"

"Well, obviously I'm not in a position to do that right now," Arthur said, not letting the comment deter him, "I've got something entirely different in mind and I know that you're going to love it."

"What is it?" Alfred asked eagerly.

"Strip and we'll find out."

Alfred began to tear at his own clothing and Arthur did likewise. It was the first time in months that he'd felt too hot in their bedroom instead of too cold. He forced Alfred back onto the bed and attacked his chest with his teeth and tongue. It wasn't easy. Arthur had to crane his neck quite a bit to be able to reach him. But, oh, was it worth it when Alfred let out all those delectable little mewls and groans. He'd forgotten how much he missed being in control, how much he loved to please his husband instead of the other way around. Alfred gripped at his hair, keeping him down, begging and pleading him for more.

"Love you," he whispered, "Love you so much, Artie,"

Arthur just smiled at him and slid further down, leaving a wet trail from Alfred's collarbone down to his right hip. He pulled away and bit the inside of his lip. He'd heard about doing this, but he'd never actually tried it. He couldn't wait to make Alfred squirm, but he couldn't help but be just a tad nervous.

"What's up?" Alfred asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Just lay back down." Arthur caressed the jut of his hip, as if relaxing Alfred would relax him too, "I'm going to try something."

Alfred grumbled but did as Arthur had instructed. Oh, he had missed Alfred obeying him like that in the bedroom. He smoothed his hands across Alfred's hips, feeling more confident now that he'd started to recapture what it was like to be the dominant party, and took a deep breath. He was ready now. Alfred's cock was so lovely that he could barely stand to look away. It was swollen and flushed and begging for attention. Well, who was Arthur to deny it that? He licked his lips and leaned down to suck the tip. He heard Alfred gasp and felt those broad, barely calloused fingers bury themselves in his hair. He didn't stop, Alfred didn't seem to mind after all, he just let a little bit more slip into his mouth. He began to run his tongue along the cock, laving the head and running along the thick vein on the underside. It was twitching just a little bit, which felt strange, but how much Alfred was enjoying it allowed him to forge on. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring Alfred's thick, musky scent. It was so much stronger down there. He moaned, not bothering to pull away. Alfred let out a cry and forced his head down.

For a moment he panicked. There was no air anymore, and his throat muscles were contracting, trying to force the cock out but with the way Alfred was holding his head it was impossible. After a few seconds of pure terror, Arthur remembered that he had arms and managed to push himself up.

Alfred was babbling something, most likely "I'm sorry"s or "Are you okay?"s, but Arthur wasn't listening. He was too busy inhaling his sweet, sweet oxygen.

After gasping for air long enough to remember himself he glared up at Alfred.

"I'm so sorry!" He said quickly, "It just felt so good when you moaned and-"

"It's alright," Arthur said, Hell, he couldn't stay mad at him, "Just grab the sheets."

"What? Why?"

"I don't want that to happen again."

"You're going to keep going?"

"Would you like me to stop?"

Alfred just turned bright red and took fistfuls of the sheets.

Arthur smiled. That was what he thought. He couldn't be amused for too long, though, because Alfred was just so cute with that blush on his face. Lowering himself again, Arthur slowly let more and more of Alfred's cock inside until his mouth was completely full. The entire thing didn't fit, so he balanced himself on one arm and used his other hand to pump the rest and fondle Alfred's sack. He began to bob his head up and down, trying different patters of sucking and licking to find what Alfred liked best. Alfred was saying things, Arthur wasn't really paying enough attention to know what, but they were definitely words meant to encourage him.

With Alfred reacting as strongly as he was, it wasn't long until Arthur was painfully hard himself. Normally he would have rubbed himself against the sheets for a bit of relief, but he had to kneel to keep the pressure off of his belly. And, of course, now that he was aroused the little brat was awake and delivering kick after sharp kick to Arthur's bladder. He should really have been used to it by now, because every time Arthur popped a boner the baby decided that _he _deserved to be the center of attention instead. It was a cruel trick of nature, but Arthur supposed it made sense. It had to be a defense mechanism: the baby obviously didn't want him to have sex because he didn't want competition for mummy's attention (he suppressed the idea that maybe it felt good for him too. That was just too strange to think about).

Much like his thoughts, Arthur suppressed the desire to calm the child to focus on finishing Alfred. Even if he hadn't been with Alfred for eons he knew he was getting close. His cries were becoming more and more desperate and every inch of his skin was slowly turning pink. Arthur could deal with a few minutes of being a punching bag for his husband's sake. Besides, that way he could keep taking in Alfred's smell.

"Artie," Alfred said, "Artie, stop, I'm gonna-"

Arthur immediately rolled back onto his knees. He stroked his stomach with one hand to try to placate the little monster inside of him while the other milked Alfred's cock until he came. Even as he reached for a cloth beside the bed to clean up with, Arthur couldn't take his eyes away. Alfred looked so lovely; hair sexily tousled, body limp, looking as though he hadn't a care in the world. Arthur swallowed. He felt so in love that it almost hurt. He just wanted to pull Alfred close and never let him go.

Alfred laughed, "You want some help taking care of that?" He sat up and gently flicked the tip of Arthur's erection, snapping him out of his trance and making him groan, "Well, do ya?" Arthur nodded lamely. Alfred laughed and rolled over and got onto his knees, "Well come on then," he shook his ass.

Arthur leaned over and kissed him. He found the slick and coated three of his fingers with it. He made sure to prepare Alfred painfully slowly so that by the time he was finished he would be ready to go and begging to be fucked. All that Arthur had to do was keep himself under control until the time came. Alfred was shaking and making very, very high pitched noises, which weren't exactly helpful. He had to move more quickly because otherwise he would come without any stimulation whatsoever and how embarrassing would that be? But he knew that it was worth it. Alfred moaning for him was the best part. He loved knowing he could reduce such a big, strong man to a pile of goo that desperately needed to be fucked.

"Come on, dammit," Alfred groaned.

"All in good time," Arthur replied, trying to appear more in control than he was.

Alfred was starting to need it, but not quite badly enough. Arthur needed him to need it like his next breath. That was the best way to completely satisfy the both of them. He only pulled his hand away when Alfred had turned bright red and was shaking, trying to hold back his desire and failing pitifully. Arthur knew that Alfred would let him do anything at all right then, and after having to be on his back or his knees and just taking it for so long that thought was enchanting.

However, it was then that he realized a problem. How the hell was he actually supposed to get in? It seemed so simple in theory, but actually looking at the size of his belly and the location of Alfred's entrance… To buy himself a few moments, he slowly coated his cock in the slick with some difficulty. It wasn't that he had trouble getting to it (just because he couldn't see it anymore didn't mean that he didn't know where it was). Rather, his erection was almost rubbing his stomach. But he was a man determined to be inside his mate, and he was going to do it, dammit!

Carefully, he managed to get his belly over the curve of Alfred's ass and place his cock right at the entrance. He let out a loud groan both because of the way that Alfred bucked back against his arousal the fact that Alfred seemed to be aroused simply by the weight of his child on his back. Arthur felt so much lighter with him helping to support the baby. Why hadn't they thought of this earlier? With how much Alfred was obsessed with feeling it they might as well put him to work. But that was too much to think about now. He carefully steered himself into Alfred and slid in inch by inch.

Oh, God, he was so tight, so hot. He'd missed this. He'd missed it so much. He thought he'd known that before, but it was nothing, nothing compared to when he was actually surrounded by Alfred's hot, wet body with muscles twitching around him.

"Y-you okay?" He asked, barely able to hold back.

"Never better," Alfred said, bucking back like there was somehow more to take.

That was more than enough for Arthur. He grabbed Alfred's hips tightly and began pounding into his ass mercilessly. At the beginning everything was perfectly fine: Alfred was moaning and groaning and asking how they'd gone so long without having Arthur top. He was rocking back into Arthur's every thrust and they were making love like a couple that had been married for a month: excited and sensitive and reckless and overwhelmed but loving it. Then all of a sudden, Alfred stopped and became completely still.

"What's wrong, love?" Arthur stopped, his concern for his husband overcoming the primal urges that he had just started to fulfill.

"Uh, is he supposed to be moving like that?" Alfred asked, looking over his shoulder with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

Arthur looked at him with confusion before realizing that he was referring to the fact that the baby was still kicking. Then he just sighed and said, "Yes. He has been every time we've made love since he started moving."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So our baby is going crazy in there because we're fucking?"

"Basically."

"Arthur have we-" Alfred froze, "Have we been hurting him?"

"No," Arthur said, "No, no, it's not that at all."

"Then what?"

"Actually Alfred," Arthur sat up and placed a hand over his stomach, where the boy was still squirming, "I think he likes it."

"What?"

"Well, _I _love it, and he feels more or less what I feel, so-"

"So our kid is getting off to you getting off."

Arthur winced, "Sort of."

"Dude, that is fucked up."

"Well when you put it like that!"

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've stopped."

"What? And give up on all sexual gratification until he's born? Forget it." Arthur rubbed Alfred's shoulders, hoping to distract him. Being still inside of him for so long was starting to hurt, and he really, really wanted to get back to it, "Now relax, daddy, forget about him. Just think about me and how I'm going to fuck you into the goddamn floor." Normally he would have leaned down to bite Alfred's ear, but he doubted that he could reach.

Instead, he just rolled his hips. Alfred let out a groan, and Arthur began pounding away again, searching for the spot that would drive his husband mad. Alfred let out a shaky little "ah" and dropped to his elbows

"_Now that's more like it," _Arthur thought, upping his pace.

Of course, then Alfred started to properly collapse. Arthur gripped at him, but it was hard to keep going while he was supporting all of his own weight plus the weight of Alfred's bottom half.

"Up," Arthur said, "Up!"

Alfred groaned, but slid his legs back into a position where he could support himself. Thankful, Arthur resumed his previous pace.

Now that he didn't need to hold Alfred up, Arthur's hands began to trace Alfred's sides, taking in every inch of sculpted muscle, sharp bone, and malleable fat; everywhere from his broad, muscled shoulders to his soft ass. It was a very lovely juxtaposition and the different landscapes of his body blended together and transitioned perfectly. Alfred was beautiful, so beautiful. Arthur gently, far too gently for the harshness of his thrusts, tucked a strand of soft golden hair behind Alfred's ear. Alfred turned to look at him, deep blue eyes full of love and adoration more than lust in spite of his moaning and the sweat beading upon his brow. Arthur felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Love you," Alfred said, smiling.

"I love you, too." Arthur replied, stroking his cheek because he couldn't kiss him.

Alfred laughed.

"What's so," he panted, "what's so funny?"

"Not funny, just happy," He laughed again, "Can't I be happy?"

"Yeah," Arthur said, smiling back, "Yeah you can,"

Alfred groaned and went back to burying his face in the pillows. For the first time since they'd started again, Arthur's hand left Alfred to perch upon his still-rippling belly.

"_I hope you're like him," _Arthur thought to the baby (maybe it was odd to do that at such a time, but it started to seem almost natural. Besides it wasn't as though the two weren't connected) _"I hope that you're just like your dad." _

He could be too because he was a boy. He was really a he, his son, _Alfred's _son. They were staying together. They were going to keep being a family. Arthur felt like crying, but kept himself in check. It would be weird to cry while making love. Then he noticed that under his breath Alfred was chanting his name over and over like it was the only word in the world.

"_Oh, my darling baby, you have no idea how much I love you, how much _he _loves you." _Oh, rubbish, he was starting to cry after all, _"But you will, because we'll be able to hold you and I'll nurse you and your father will be able to tell you those fanciful stories he always comes up with and we'll be there for your first steps and your first words and your first everything and-"_

Arthur probably would have kept going, but then his orgasm snuck up on him and he barely had enough self-control to be able to reach under for Alfred's cock and help him finish too. Once he felt Alfred tighten around him, he allowed himself to roll off of him and down onto the mattress.

"Hey," Alfred said, wiping one of Arthur's cheeks, "What's wrong?"

He remembered that he still had tears streaming down his face and buried his head in his pillow, "Nothing's wrong," he said, "Perfectly fine."

"Arthur," he looked up to see Alfred more distraught than he ought to be after sex, "You're crying. Why?"

He let out a little laugh, "You laugh when you're happy, I guess I cry."

"Oh, Arthur," He wrapped his arms around Arthur and pulled him close. Arthur splayed his fingers across Alfred's chest.

"These fucking hormones are going to be the death of me," he said, sniffling.

"This isn't the death of anything, 'cept for maybe our dignity."

Arthur smiled weakly for a moment, "You never had dignity."

"Maybe you're right." Alfred sighed, "But as that's the case, you listen up in there," he poked Arthur's stomach, "You had better stop making your mommy cry, because his smile is really, really pretty."

The baby was absolutely still, "I think he's ignoring you."

"Figures that my kid would start being rebellious early," he traced random patterns on Arthur's stomach. At least he wasn't nuzzling his belly button with that stupid grin on his face this time. The things that Arthur put up with, "Hey, what should we call him?"

"Well, I like to call him the little brat, idiot junior, the reason I can't hug you from behind, why I'm not allowed to drink as much as I'd like, and of course, absolute pain in the arse."

"I mean names."

"And like I said, I call him lots of names."

"Yeah, those and more when you're in private. What was that one from when you were knitting last week? Your little-"

"How about John?" He said quickly.

"Nah, there are like three Johns in this town already. What do you think of Aaron?"

"We're not going to be one of those families where everyone's name starts with the same sound."

"Can we name one of them Aaron, at least? When we've had like two or three? That's my favorite name in the whole world, Artie."

"You'd better pray for me going through this again at all." He thought for a moment, trying to come up with a decent name that didn't already belong to anyone they knew, "What do you think of Oliver?"

"No, I don't think he's an Oliver."

"For once you're right, idiot. He's too rambunctious."

"Damn straight. He's my kid, and you can't make him boring no matter how much tea and embroidery you throw at him. Hey, what about Stanley?"

"No. Stanly is the same as Oliver. And what's wrong with tea and embroidery?"

"Steve? And everything."

"No. To both of your statements."

Arthur sighed. "I don't think we're going to find a name at random," he said, leaving their hobby argument to a different date.

"Probably not," Alfred said, "Hey, John would have been good if there weren't so many, right?"

"That's right. So something like John would suit him probably." he reached his hand down to cup the bottom of his stomach, "A good strong, short name, I think."

For a moment they both just looked down at Arthur's unresponsive belly.

"I think he went back to sleep." Arthur traced his thumb in the same spot as usual, "I swear to God, he's either full of energy or just laying there like a dead thing."

"Don't say dead."

"Relax. It just means he's like you."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever _seen_ you sleep?"

"How could I?"

"You're completely immobile. If I screamed in your ear, you would maybe mumble something and roll over. _Maybe. _I swear, Alfred, I've seen rocks that are easier to wake than you."

"Peter," Alfred said suddenly.

"What are you on about?" Arthur asked raising an eyebrow.

"His name's Peter." He then noticed that Alfred's eyes were locked on his stomach.

Arthur thought about it for a moment, wondering if he should question Alfred at all about where the name came from, but he rejected it and allowed smile creep across his face, "It seems fitting to me." He noticed the way that Alfred's eyes hadn't moved an inch, "But I think you might want to ask his opinion, is that right?"

He looked up, "Arthur-"

"It's okay, love," he kissed him, "I won't make fun of you this once."

Alfred grinned and slid down the blankets. And then there was the stupid grin and belly button-nuzzling. Arthur had to look away or else he was going to cry again.

"Hey, I know you're awake in there." He said, "I felt you kicking my back two minutes ago. Even _I _can't fall asleep that fast."

"Yes you can."

"Shut up, mom. Anyway, I know you're probably all comfy and chilling in there, but mommy and I have a question for you. You listening? 'Cause this is important." Arthur was about to open his mouth, but he couldn't ruin this moment for them, he just couldn't. Not with how softly Alfred was looking at that patch of skin between him and his son, not with the gentle way he reached up placed a hand on the side of his belly, "Is your name Peter? One kick for yes, two for no."

Nothing happened for a moment, and then right where Alfred's hand was there was a single kick.

Arthur wanted to deny it, say that it was a fluke, but then Alfred was smiling and looking like _he _was gonna cry. Then Arthur reached down and cupped his cheek, making him smile even bigger.


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred swore that Arthur was more beautiful than anything at moments like this. They were sitting side by side in front of the fire sharing a blanket that just covered their laps. Arthur had one arm draped over his belly and the look on his face nothing in the world could be better for once. At almost nine months, he was huge. Most of the time he wandered around the house, mostly naked except for his tunic. Now and then he'd wear underclothes, both rolled to make way for his massive belly, but he hadn't put on his hose in weeks. Alfred loved it. Even though he had started to get over Arthur having a large pregnant belly, he still felt a bit of a thrill when he would enter the room or start talking and see the well-defined imprint of a little foot or hand. The first time it had happened it freaked him out, but now he loved it. It just meant Peter was as eager for his birth as they were.

But, as fantastic and sexy as Arthur was while he was pregnant, it was time. They were all restless and anxious.

At least every other day Arthur would put on his boots and cloak and go out, just to roam the streets or the forests or something. He never let Alfred come. He said he just wanted to be left alone. Alfred, for his part, wasn't doing much better. Whenever Arthur was out he would pace, nervous. He found himself worrying about a million things: what if Arthur was attacked by a bear? What if he went into labor early? What if he was sick but, just like his own mother, decided to sacrifice himself for the baby? Most of the time if Arthur would leave after they had an argument (which was starting to happen more and more often the closer they got to Arthur's due date) Alfred would find himself worrying that Arthur had finally gotten sick of his incompetence and just found someone else.

"_Someone who can actually do the job you're supposed to be doing," _his mind supplied.

He shook his head. No, no that was just silly. All of that was just silly. Besides, at the moment everything was okay. Arthur was just sitting there, completely content and relaxed. There wasn't any movement across the taut skin of his belly, meaning that Peter was probably either napping or relaxing. Alfred wrapped his arm around Arthur's back, and Arthur scooted closer until he could rest his head on Alfred's shoulder.

Sometimes Alfred wondered about their choice to have the baby in the first place. He liked kids as much as the next guy, but was it really worth the toll the pregnancy was taking on his Artie?

"Not much longer," Arthur had said as he sat at the table, knitting, "Not much longer now, Alfred."

"_Well duh," _Alfred had thought, _"_I_ still go to church on Sunday so _I _know what week it is." _ He kept his mouth shut, though. According to Arthur it would be a good skill to have once Peter was born.

Alfred rested his head on Arthur's shoulder. He was tired too, dammit. He had to work long hours trying to come up with more stuff he could sell, cook, clean, and do lots of other little things to take care of Arthur. To make it all worse, he didn't even get sex as a payoff anymore. Arthur was so far along that he couldn't touch him for fear of him going into labor before he was ready.

Oh hey, from this position he could pet Arthur's side. He began moving his fingers up and down across Arthur's bare skin, but then quick as a flash Arthur caught his hand.

"Don't," Arthur whispered, "You'll wake him."

"Right," Alfred replied, "Sorry."

As soon as Alfred started talking, though, Arthur's belly had begun to ripple. "Oof, I don't know what that was but it hurt." He stroked his stomach, trying to get Peter to stop moving, "Dammit, Alfred, Why'd you have to say something and get him all excited? You know how much he likes your voice."

Alfred just looked down, knowing that any apology would just make it worse.

"Oh Hell, help me up. It's apparently 'play footie with mummy's bladder' time again."

Once Arthur was on his feet, Alfred sat back down. If he got involved he'd probably just get yelled at because Peter was obviously too young to understand his mother's complaints, and Arthur apparently had to take it out on somebody. That still didn't stop him from trying to reason with the kid, though.

"Now please, just stop kicking for long enough for me to piss. That's all I'm asking, love."

And apparently he did because Arthur didn't start swearing, which was good because a lot of times it also made him miss, which Alfred hated cleaning up. He knew that it was selfish and that he should be more sensitive and that he should get used to it anyway since Peter wouldn't be born potty trained, but he still felt that everyone had a right to hate cleaning up piss.

Still, he had to try to be a good husband. After all, he didn't want to start a fight because he always felt terrible afterwards, either because Arthur would run away and make him think he was a terrible person and it was all his fault or because he'd find Arthur crying a little bit later and because he'd made him cry it always made him think he was a terrible person and that it was all his fault. Either way, he couldn't win.

"Hey, Alfred," Arthur said, sitting back down, "I'm hungry."

Great. "Fine, what do you want?" Dammit, he shouldn't have used that tone because now Arthur looked offended.

"Something warm, I think."

Even better. Now he had to cook, and who knew what he would actually want? "Such as?"

"I don't know. Some warm broth or something."

"'Kay."

Thankfully, he was actually making soup for later in the evening. Hopefully his majesty wouldn't mind chicken. He tromped down stairs and found a mug, carefully filling it only with the liquid. He brought it up to Arthur, who took a sip and then looked disgusted.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you put salt in it?"

"Salt?"

"Yes, a whole lot. And honey, I think."

"Salt and honey."

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well alright," Alfred took it back, went back downstairs, fixed it up and brought it back to Arthur.

"It could use some beer."

"Really?"

"Really."

With slight disgust, Alfred went all the way to the cellar, found some beer, and added it in. It smelled absolutely revolting, but so did most things that Arthur wanted those days.

"Do we have any mint?" Arthur asked, trying it again.

"You're kidding, right?"

Arthur just scowled and shoved it back into Alfred's hands.

This time he didn't even try to hide the fact that he was stomping around and probably "making a scene," as Arthur would put it. But when he brought it back and Arthur took a big swig of the vile concoction he actually smiled.

"Thank you so much," He said, taking another deep drink, "This is just what I needed."

And then came the guilt.

It wasn't fair! He'd given Arthur what he'd wanted, and he'd been right to be mad because it was ridiculous, and now he felt like shit for doing it. With a sigh he sat down on the sofa.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked.

"Nothing, nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really."

Arthur shrugged and went back to gulping down his broth (if it could even be called that anymore)

"Hey, Alfred?"

"What?" Alfred snapped, looking up at him.

"N-nothing," Arthur said, swirling the cup in his hands.

"No, you can tell me. It's fine." He tried to sound more neutral, but he didn't think it was working.

"It wasn't important."

"Really, Arthur, it's _perfectly _okay."

"Alfred…"

He looked a little bit concerned, but Alfred just turned away to look out the window. It was silent for a few moments, but then Arthur stood and looked down at him.

"God in Heaven, Alfred, what is wrong with you?"

Suddenly, Alfred felt some part of him that had been slowly wound tighter and tighter over the past few weeks abruptly snap.

"Oh, I don't know," Alfred glared up at him, "It's couldn't be the fact that I'm living with a parasite."

"_I'm _the one who has to feed the baby, stupid."

"No, _you're _a goddamn parasite!" Alfred stood, "You just lie around the house the entire day and order me to do all sorts of stupid shit for you that it's not like you couldn't do any of it yourself if you didn't want to badly enough!"

"Alfred, I have a half-stone infant inside of me, do you have any idea how hard that makes things for me?"

"Well I've got a husband who makes me do everything for him short of chew his food, do you have any idea how hard that makes things for _me?" _

"It can't be too hard because until now you haven't complained!"

"You don't even know do you? Look, if I ever say one thing you don't like you just go and make _me_ look like the bad guy, no matter how stupid _you're_ being!"

"You're supposed to be taking care of me!"

"You're supposed to at least _try _to be reasonable!"

"I don't have to take this," He turned away.

Alfred grabbed his shoulder, "Yes you do!"

"No I don't!"

"You can't just keep running away, Arthur! You need to stay here!"

"Why should I?"

"Because you promised," Alfred swallowed. Oh God he was about to cry, "You promised me you'd stay."

Arthur just looked at him open-mouthed.

He couldn't take it anymore. He ran into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. He crawled beneath the blanket and started to cry. It wasn't worth it to try to stop. He'd fucked up, hadn't he? Irrevocably, stupidly, _terribly _fucked up. He almost wished that he didn't have a reason for it so that he could go back and beg Arthur to forgive him. But he did have a reason, and he didn't feel sorry for what he did. He was just sad that it had probably ruined everything.

For a few hours (he wasn't sure how long, but he could watch the shadows move across the room as the sun started to set), he simply lay in bed. He had stopped crying a long time ago and was just curled up into a ball, numb to emotion, knowing that he'd probably messed up the life he'd worked nineteen years to build but no longer having the energy to care. He didn't even have the will to sleep. He just stared at the wall.

There was a knock on the door and he heard it open just a crack.

"Alfred? Can I come in?"

He just grunted noncommittally, but Arthur seemed to take that as an invitation because he walked in and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Alfred, I'm s- I'm-" He sighed, "I love you. You _do _know that, right?"

Alfred grunted again and rolled away.

"Please, I- I didn't mean to- It was never my intention to-"

"Look, are you gonna say something or not?" He looked back at Arthur, for the first time, really. He saw the hurt in his eyes, but his heart was still to frozen to feel anything but the smallest twinge.

"I- I-"

Alfred rolled his eyes and curled up again.

Arthur sighed and, with a grunt, stood and left the room.

At some point Alfred fell asleep. He woke up to the sun on his face but an empty bed. That was enough to make him cry some more. Then the door opened again and he froze.

"I brought you breakfast. Thanks for leaving supper on last night, it was good. But when I woke up this morning I realized you hadn't eaten in a day, so I made you some porridge. I know it isn't much, but it's the best I can do."

This time, Alfred felt something. He rolled back over to look at Arthur, who looked sheepish and very, very sad. Alfred wanted more than anything just to pull him into a hug and tell him it was okay. But that would just be pushing things aside, wouldn't it? They couldn't do that anymore, not with a baby on the way.

"Please, just eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Please, Alfred, please."

Alfred rolled onto his stomach, looking at Arthur just from the corner of his eye.

"Look, Alfred," he set the bowl he'd brought on the bedside table, "I'm sorry."

Alfred pushed himself onto his knees and looked at him. He didn't think he'd ever heard Arthur say those words before, not seriously. It was usually a way to brush him off or an excuse, and he'd learned to understand that. This time it was different, a real honest-to-God apology.

"I wasn't thinking, wasn't looking. I didn't realize that I was bothering you and I should have. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to get mad at me," Arthur looked back at him, "I just wanted everything to be perfect for us and I kept hoping that if I just didn't do anything it would pass. Dammit, we're having a baby. Shouldn't we be all happy and in love?"

Arthur smiled, "I don't know about what you think, but I love you. I wouldn't ask for so much if I didn't trust you, and I wouldn't get upset when you weren't perfect if I didn't have high expectations for you, but no rest for the wicked," he gently stroked Alfred's hair, "We always have to work."

"I know, I know. And I love you to. I just- I was scared."

"Of what?"

Alfred wrapped his arms around him, "I don't want you to leave me."

Arthur pulled away, "What on _earth _could make you think I'd want to leave?"

"Come on," Alfred said, looking away, "There are a million other people who could take better care of you and give you what you deserve better than me."

"Don't say that. Don't _ever _say that," This time Arthur grabbed him, "Alfred, I picked you for a reason. I _love _you, dammit. Even if you don't see it, you're special. No one could make me happy like you do."

"Arthur, I-" He didn't know what to say, so he just tugged Arthur close and started crying again.

"Now, now, love," he stroked Alfred's hair, "I'm supposed to by the crier, not you."

"Y-you're right." Alfred pulled away and wiped his eyes, "But I don't think I have the energy to do anything today."

"That's fine," He smiled, "Let me take care of you for once."

"Arthur, you're due a few days!"

"And I feel perfectly fine now that I know what's wrong with you."

"But-"

"No buts. I'm going to repay you for all you've done for me."

"Artie-"

"Good, then we're in agreement. Now eat your porridge."

Alfred took it and looked down. It was glopy and chunks of it were blackened. Still, when he first tasted it after Arthur went to do other chores he couldn't help but realize it was the most delicious thing he'd eaten in weeks.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n: **Hi everyone! Not much to say about this one (other than that it's baby time and that I still have a few chapters left of this fic), but I'm finding out if I get into the school I want on Saturday, so if everyone could wish me luck or a quick prayer or whatever I'd be really happy :D

On with the fic!

* * *

><p>Alfred had been having such a nice, normal day. He didn't have any orders at the time, so he was just sitting at his desk and brainstorming new awesome ideas, occasionally going down to the kitchen to cook or keeping Arthur company.<p>

He wasn't quite sure about him those days. He pretty much just ate, slept, and sat around. He'd had never been too happy being in one place for a long time be hadn't left the house in over a week. Alfred just hoped that it was only because he was tired and not because he was sick or still upset. At least they hadn't fought recently (after the last one they'd decided to be a little more sensitive towards each other and that seemed to be working).

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Alfred sat bolt upright. Everyone that they were friends with lived pretty far away, and what kind of customer would knock? It was curiosity more than anything else that made him go downstairs and see who it was. He opened the door to find none other than Nathan.

"Uh, hi," Alfred said lamely.

"Oh, you must be Alfred! It's been years since I've seen you. You've grown up so much!" He said, offering him his right hand, "Anyway, I'm sorry to drop by unannounced, but I need to see Arthur."

"O-okay," Alfred said, still a bit taken aback, "I think he's asleep, but I can go wake him up for you."

"I'm awake," Alfred turned around to see Arthur coming down the stairs behind him. "I couldn't sleep. It's time, isn't it?"

Nathan just nodded, "Are you ready?"

Arthur sighed, "To be honest, sir, not really."

He smiled sympathetically, "None of us ever are."

"What are you talking about?" Alfred asked.

Arthur just looked at him like he was stupid.

"Oh," Alfred said nervously, "That." He turned to Nathan, "What can I do?"

"Go to the church. Tell any of the priests that your husband is going to give birth today. They'll know what to do."

"Before you go there, run out and get Kiku," Arthur said.

"Is he your support?" Nathan asked.

"Yes."

"Good." The old man nodded, "Now go."

He then shoved Alfred out the door with more strength than he had expected from someone his age. As soon as his feet hit the grass outside, Alfred started running. He had to get out of town as quickly as possible. Artie needed him! Kiku lived way out on the edge of the woods, so it was a pretty long run. Once he got there he banged on the door before doubling over to catch his breath.

"Alfred?" Kiku asked after opening the door, "What's wrong?"

"Ar-Artie… Having… baby…"

"Arthur is having the baby?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, looking up at his friend, "…Needs us."

"Has he gone back to see the fae yet?"

"He has to… go back…?"

Kiku nodded, "Nathan-san is probably taking him now. That's what actually allows us to have the children. Even after that it can take up to a day. There is no hurry."

"But I… I wanna be there."

"Do not worry, you will be." He gave him a sweet smile, "Wait here and catch your breath. I need to tell my family where I'm going."

Alfred nodded and leaned against the wall. He just stood there until a few moments later when Kiku came back out, this time wearing a cloak and holding a small satchel.

"What's the bag for?" Alfred asked.

"To carry the things the priests give us."

"Right." He pushed off against the wall and started walking to the church, itching to run even though Kiku wouldn't. "So what _do_ they give us anyway?"

"White linens, oil, and a bowl."

"We've got all that," Alfred said, scowling, "Why did I have to leave Arthur?"

"Well, all of it is blessed so that no evil spirits try to steal the baby, but the real reason is to separate the parents."

"Why would they do that?" Alfred demanded, "I've gotta go back and protect him!"

Kiku sighed, "That's why. They have to prepare Arthur and your house. No offence meant, but you would get in the way."

"But-"

"I know you want to help, but the best thing that you can do for Arthur is to let him be for a while."

"But I-"

"Having children is all about waiting," Kiku said, "You must learn that, Alfred."

"I don't like waiting," Alfred said, crossing his arms and turning around to go back into town, "Let's just go to the church and go back."

"They'll most likely make you wait," Kiku said, following, "They understand that you need to stay away."

"Why is everybody doing this to me?" Alfred asked, "I just want to help."

"They understand," Kiku said, "Most of the priests are fathers too. The difference is that they're more experienced and they do what they must to help in whatever ways they can."

"But Arthur-"

"-Will be fine, Alfred." Kiku smiled.

Alfred let out a disappointed whine. He still didn't believe a word of it.

It took everything Kiku had to hold him back from running to the church and back. He really didn't need to hold him, though, Alfred thought. He knew better than to leave him behind. By the time they got back Nathan was just sitting in their main room, reading one of Arthur's books.

"Here," Alfred said, almost throwing the satchel at Nathan, "Now where is he?"

"He wanted to go to his study, so I let him."

Alfred was gone before he even finished his sentence. He ran through the hall and slammed Arthur's door open.

Arthur jumped, but then scowled at him and placed one hand atop his swollen belly, "Bloody hell, you almost scared him right out of me."

"Artie!" Alfred ran over to him and embraced him, "You're okay!"

"Let me go, git!"

"My god, Arthur, I was so worried!" Alfred let him go but left his hands on his shoulders.

He crossed his arms "Worried? About what, may I ask?"

"I didn't want you to go through this alone."

At that, Arthur blushed bright red and looked away to cough, "I wasn't alone… idiot."

Alfred smiled, but then another thought occurred to him, "Arthur, why are you working? Shouldn't you be lying down and resting?"

Arthur winced and grabbed his stomach.

"No! Artie! What's wrong?"

"Idiot, I'm in labor. What do you think is wrong?"

"Oh…"

"Yeah. I've been working to relax and distract myself from the pain, and then you come in here and have to go and bloody remind me!" He balled his hands into fists.

"I'm sorry," Alfred backed up and help up his hands. The last thing he needed was for Arthur to hurt himself punching him out, "I didn't mean to."

Arthur sighed and sat back down, "I know."

"Artie…" Alfred knelt down behind him and placed his hands on his stomach, "Is there any way I can help?"

He shook his head, "I'm sorry, Alfred, but there's nothing anyone can do right now. It'll be hours until I'm even funny dilated."

Alfred didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but it didn't really matter, "Can I stay with you?"

The older man gave him a pained smile, "Well, considering how distracting your particular brand of idiocy is I'll be better off if I comply."

Alfred grinned and ran off to get another chair. He did his very best to distract Arthur, constantly asking questions and saying stupid stuff. Arthur looked about ready to strangle him but it seemed like it was working. Every few hours, Arthur would start wincing more and more often and then Alfred would have to go and get him some special tea Nathan had brought to dull the pain. Sometimes he'd be asked to get Nathan himself to check up on Arthur, but even if he didn't Nathan came in at least once every hour. He would have Arthur lean back in his chair and spread his legs and then he'd poke around. Arthur always made sort of a funny face while he was doing it, half way between pain and disgust. Once, after Nathan had gone, Alfred peeked under his tunic. As soon as he caught a glimpse of what was going on, he pulled away in absolute disgust. Arthur just laughed at him. He could say whatever he wanted, but just getting another hole like that was totally weird enough to warrant more than Alfred's reaction.

After about twelve hours, when Nathan had his fingers inside of Arthur he said, "Alright, then, it's time." He stood and looked at Alfred, "Kiku will bring you your clothes in a few moments." And then he left. No words of wisdom, no fanfare, no nothing.

"So this is it?" Alfred asked nervously, "We're gonna have the baby now?"

"_I'm _going to have the baby, prat," Arthur said, scowling, "But yes, we're more or less to that part," he stroked his belly, "That's right, my darling. Not much longer."

Kiku, dressed in pale green clothing that he wasn't wearing when Alfred got him, came in holding a pile of cloth. He bowed to them before setting them on the table, "Here are your garments." He turned to walk away, but Arthur stood and grabbed him. The two exchanged a very intense glance and then Kiku smiled reassuringly. Not for the first time that day, Alfred felt very, very left out.

"It's funny," Arthur said after Kiku left, "I helped him deliver both of his children. We never thought we'd switch places. Now," he pulled his tunic over his head, "Let's get this monstrosity out of me."

Alfred was about to follow suit but he paused to get one last look at Arthur's body, heavy with child, absolutely beautiful. He couldn't help it, he had to come over and hold him.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?"

"I love you, Arthur," He said.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "I'm about to give birth and you choose _now _to remind me of that."

"Yeah," Alfred said.

But he understood that they needed to move quickly, so he let Arthur go so that he could pull off his tunic. Arthur quickly dressed himself in the white thing from the pile. Alfred didn't want to call it a tunic, because it wasn't quite one. It was a little too short and plainer than most of the ones people owned. It was probably designed to just barely be enough to cover him. Alfred was relieved to find that the one he was supposed to wear was much longer, both with full sleeves and reaching his mid-calf. He was also glad that it wasn't white, instead being a brown so dark that it was nearly black with a beautiful gold design embroidered on it. He was sure that it was symbolic… of something. Arthur probably knew the point of all the stupid little details, but he was too busy actually having the baby to be bothered with all the ritual surrounding it and Alfred didn't give a shit at the moment.

As if hearing his thoughts, Arthur looked at him with a pained look on his face, "Well then," he said, "Let's go."

"Right," Alfred said.

Arthur waddled out into the hall and Alfred followed him at a respectful distance, not wanting his husband to freak out and have one of his "I can still totally do everything I did before I got pregnant" moments. Usually they ended up being hilarious, but Alfred didn't want to make his life any more stressful.

Even if he was walking really _really _slow.

They made it back to their main room eventually. Kiku and Nathan were waiting there, sitting at the table and talking. In the center of the room there was this weird stand thing. It was a big old slab of wood, which had a cut-out for the large bowl they had gotten from the church, and then there were two thick poles coming up from the slab with blocks wrapped in cloth attached to the top. The wood was dark and smooth with wear, but the wrappings were brand new. Next to it there was the pile of white linens and the oil he and Kiku had picked up. A large pot sat out next to the fire, but Alfred didn't smell anything cooking in it.

Arthur understood better than Alfred, because he went right to the weird wood thing and stood on it, straddling the bowl and resting his forearms on the blocks. Naturally, Alfred went to him right away and took one of his hands. He looked up at him, silently asking if he was going to be alright. Arthur smiled weakly in response and rubbed Alfred's thumb.

"I'll be okay," He said, "Not much longer. It's all going to be okay."

"I should be comforting _you." _

"It's alright, Alfred-san," Kiku said, going to Arthur's other side, "He's seen this before. You haven't."

Alfred watched Nathan, who was muttering something or other over the oil. When he finished, he smiled and said, "Sorry, but I'm required to do this. Otherwise I could lose my license, and at my age that would be terrible."

He drew the compass points on his forehead with the oil and then did the same to Alfred and Kiku, ending by drawing one on Arthur's forehead and another on the bottom of his stomach.

"It _is_ a bit funny, isn't it?" Arthur asked, wincing.

"Well, you know how it is," Nathan said, setting the jar back on the mantle, "The priests can't bear to be left out of anything important, so they decided to throw all these unnecessary bits in. When the baby decides to come it comes. As long as you go to the faeries, three times out of four you'd be fine giving birth alone on the ground." He rolled his eyes and got down on his knees, "You're still not quite there, but it shouldn't be too long now."

Arthur let out a sigh of relief, "Thank god."

Alfred just tightened his grip on Arthur's hand. This part was going to be the worst, wasn't it? He'd never actually seen a newborn, but with how huge Arthur's belly had gotten it had to be pretty big. He bit his lower lip. Oh, his poor Artie was probably going to hurt like hell when it was on the way out. Arthur closed his eyes and took deep, measured breaths, occasionally broken by a pained gasp. Alfred couldn't stand it, but he couldn't walk away any more than he could help him. He'd never felt as powerful in his life. His stomach squeezed painfully, as though it was trying to let him take some of Arthur's pain. But he couldn't. He was just standing there and waiting, completely separate from the man he loved most.

"Oh fuck!" Arthur said, opening his eyes and squeezing Alfred's hand for a moment.

"There we go," Nathan said, "The worst of it's over, Arthur, just trust your instincts."

Arthur grunted and shut his eyes again. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was open, but he didn't seem to be in pain like he had before. Alfred was overflowing with questions: Was he okay? What was going on? Was he excited to be a mom? What did it feel like? But he bit his tongue. This was Arthur's day and _he _was the one with the important job to do. Alfred looked over to Kiku, who also had a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. Right now, he was his best friend: the other guy being left out and unable to really help.

It was really, really quiet. The only noises to be heard were the crackling of the fire and Arthur's labored panting. Nathan and Arthur were too busy concentrating to say anything, Alfred felt too awkward, and Kiku was just as silent as usual. Alfred had no idea how much time actually passed, but it felt like hours and hours.

Then Arthur let out a little surprised, "Oh," and with and wet, gushy noise Peter slid out into Nathan's arms. Alfred immediately knew something was wrong. His body was all covered in blood and wrinkled and he wasn't screaming. Babies were pink and pudgy and cute and they were supposed to be born screaming loud enough to shake the house's foundations. Nathan didn't say anything. Maybe he was just holding off on telling Arthur?

He picked up one of the white pieces of cloth, dipped it in the pot, and began to gently rub away the blood and gunk attached to Peter's skin. He was still red, even under the blood. Nathan tied some string around the chord attaching Peter back to Arthur and then cut it. Arthur just stood there and watched the old man clean their baby and put a diaper on him. Peter was wiggling around, but all of his movements were jerky and he was making high-pitched noises that were nothing like Alfred had ever heard. It was horrible, and he was the only one who seemed to realize it. Hell, why wasn't _Kiku _saying anything? When Nathan stood up he had a smile on his face. Arthur held his hands out expectantly. Maybe they were both too tired to notice that something was obviously wrong?

Alfred decided that Arthur was clearly just crazy when he started cooing to him, "Hello there, darling," he said once he actually had him in his arms, "I've wanted to see you for so long," he kissed his forehead, "And you're so beautiful, love."

"Uh," Alfred said, not quite sure how to communicate the fact that he was sure that there was _something wrong with there baby, _"He's bright red." He finally settled on.

Now Arthur was looking at him like _he _was stupid, "They all look like this when they first come out, idiot."

Alfred frowned, "But all the one's I've seen-"

"-Aren't newborns." He looked back down at the baby, "Oh, Peter, one of the first things you need to learn is that your father is a moron. Say it with me now, 'daddy's an idiot.'"

Alfred scowled, "Let me see him."

Arthur smiled and handed him over. Alfred inspected his face closely. He couldn't see anything of Arthur _or _himself in the boy's features. Well, except for that it looked like he inherited his mother's eyebrows. He was none too cute up close. In fact, Alfred wasn't even sure that he looked entirely human. But then Peter looked at Alfred, really looked at him with those huge blue eyes, so innocent and confused and Alfred fell head-over-heels in love. He had to repress his urge to absolutely suffocate the child with love so that he didn't look too dumb after what he'd just said, but he couldn't hide his smile and he couldn't keep himself from holding Peter up to his chest. The child started squirming and mouthing the fabric.

"Um, Arthur," Alfred said, "I think he's hungry."

"Already? He _is _your son." Arthur started unlacing his shirt, but then paused and shuddered.

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked.

"Afterbirth," Arthur said.

"What's that?"

But his question was answered a moment later when there was another gushy noise and a disgusting bloody mass fell out of Arthur and into the bowl beneath him. Alfred winced and held Peter closer. Why was everything that had to do with childbirth so gross and awful?

"That's supposed to happen, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Arthur said, "We're done now." He pulled off his tunic and handed it to Nathan while Kiku got another cloth wet and started to clean the blood from Arthur's legs.

"What should I do with this?" Alfred moved his arms to show he was talking about Peter, who was still determinedly trying to nurse from his shirt.

"Just give me a moment," Kiku said, "I'll get Arthur cleaned up and then you can go to bed."

"Aren't you staying over?" Alfred asked, remembering that Arthur didn't come home the nights after helping him.

"I have a few other duties to take care of," Kiku said, "I'll join you later."

"Okay."

By that time, Nathan had brought Arthur a different tunic: one almost exactly like Alfred's, but that laced closed in the front.

"Well then," Nathan said grabbing a large satchel and taking the bowl from between Arthur's feet, "I have to go and take care of all this. You know where to find me if you need anything during the night." He pulled on his cloak and opened the door, "Goodnight, gentlemen," And with that he was gone.

Since Alfred was holding Peter, Kiku helped Arthur down the hall and to bed. He must have been really weak, because he was leaning on his shoulder really heavily. Once they had gotten into bed, Arthur quickly unlaced his tunic and held out his arms to take Peter. Alfred handed him over and lied down next to them. He watched as Peter moved his mouth around before finally latching onto one of Arthur's nipples starting to drink.

"How does it feel?" Alfred asked, not sure if he meant feeding him or giving birth.

"Odd."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but warm. It's sort of nice." He eased back further into the pillow.

Alfred set his head on his shoulder so that he could watch Peter more closely. He still didn't quite understand. He felt such a strong connection to him, even though he looked nothing like a person, even though all he had really been to Alfred was some weird part of Arthur that moved and made him look sexier. He didn't even know him yet, he had no idea of the kind of person he'd become. Still, he was happy and he felt almost a sense of closure.

"_Babies are so weird," _he thought as he closed his eyes and wiggled closer to Arthur.

All three of them were asleep by the time Kiku came in.


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur awoke, as usual, to the feeling of Peter's breaths growing more rapid beneath his fingers. He propped himself up for a better look, trying to see if he was upset or just awake. He seemed to be alright, thank God, but he still shouldn't be allowed to be awake. It was still dark, after all.

"Darling," Arthur whispered, sliding his hands under the boy to lift him safely, "You need to go back to sleep."

Peter was starting to fuss, but he wasn't crying quite yet. It must have been a few hours since he'd been fed last, so Arthur decided to try that first. He pulled him over to his chest, letting him be closer while he opened his shift and bared one of his nipples for Peter to suck on.

Peter eagerly took it and began to drink. Arthur was glad that it was dark. He hated having to feed Peter during the day because he would always get distracted by things he would see out of the corner of his eye or things that Arthur would do. Arthur supposed that his easily-distracted nature was a tradeoff for the fact that he didn't cry as often as other babies. He gladly took it, especially once he had figured out that if he dropped a blanket over Peter's head he would drink normally after a few moments of being confused.

Arthur looked around their dark room for want of something with which to occupy himself that at the same time wouldn't disturb Peter. He blandly wondered what time it was and if it was even worth it to try to get his son back to sleep. Alfred was muttering half-words and squirming around, which probably meant that it was almost sunrise. It felt like it was nearly morning too.

Normally he'd force himself to go back to sleep because he just didn't have the slightest desire to get out of bed, but they had places to go today. They were supposed to go to Alfred's parents' house so that they could meet Matthew's babies and Alfred's family could meet Peter. So once Peter stopped nursing and was just sort of snuggling with him Arthur sat up with a sigh.

"I'm going to put you down for a moment so that I can get dressed, okay?" He whispered as though Peter's three-month-old mind could understand him, "I don't know if you'll be able to see me but I'm not leaving the room."

As he changed his clothes he kept a close eye on Peter, making sure that he didn't seem too distraught that he wasn't being held at that exact moment. Then suddenly, Alfred threw one of his arms onto Peter. After a moment of panic when he assumed that Alfred had hurt him Arthur noticed that he didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to be sucking on Alfred's thumb contentedly. Arthur sighed and allowed himself to dress in peace.

However, in the past he'd gotten fairly nasty bruises from Alfred's pre-waking flailing, so when he went down to start the fire to make a quick pot of tea he took Peter with him. He didn't bother to swaddle him. Peter absolutely _hated _being wrapped up (not surprising considering how cramped he had been when he was inside of Arthur, and it was in his nature to be odd anyway simply by virtue of being his and Alfred's offspring).

He walked slowly, not wanting to scare Peter but even more because he wasn't awake enough to bother with anything resembling speed. The old wood was smooth and cool against his bare feet and the air was even cooler against his skin. Yet, Peter didn't shiver even though the only thing he had on was a diaper. Arthur held him closer, supposing that it was probably his body heat that kept him warm. Although, he thought as he brushed his fingers against his baby's almost-hot skin, maybe he didn't mind the temperature. Alfred had always been abominably warm, so maybe Peter had inherited that from him. They'd have to see once he got older.

It was so hard for Arthur to tell anything for certain. He could have sworn Peter's eyes were blue yesterday, but that morning they had a greenish tinge to them. He kept telling himself that it really shouldn't matter, that he would love Peter the same no matter what he looked like, but he couldn't help but be curious. He kept wondering who Peter would be, _what _he would be. All that was fairly certain to Arthur was that his hair would be some shade of blond, but what if one of Alfred's parents had been redheads before they'd gone gray? There was so much potential in the little person who was, at the moment, mouthing at the embroidery on Arthur's sleeve. But still, sometimes he wished that that didn't matter as much to him. Being a parent was so hard, and he was so tired. He just wanted to cry, or go back to the times before they'd had Peter when he could just do whatever he pleased.

He had just put the kettle on and settled in one of the chairs, cooing at Peter absent-mindedly to keep him entertained, when Alfred sleepily came down, rubbing one of his eyes.

"How was-" He yawned, "How was last night?"

"Better. He still woke up twice, but he went back to sleep more quickly."

"That's good," Alfred said, sitting down and setting his head down on the table.

"What are you doing that for?" Arthur asked, scowling, "You slept like a lump the entire time."

"I know, I know. But unlike you I can't nap the entire day."

"I do _not _nap all day."

"Yeah you do, but I don't mind," He smiled up at Arthur, "It's cute to walk into the sitting room or the bedroom and see you two passed out together."

"'M not cute," Arthur grumbled.

Alfred leaned over and took Peter, "Okay, look at this guy right here. There's nothing he can't make cute with his mere presence."

Peter seemed to delight in the fact that he was getting attention from both of his parents, looking back and forth between them and gurgling happily. Alfred smiled down at him and gently brushed the fluff that had collected on the top of his head (Arthur didn't think that there was enough of it to truly call it hair yet) with his free hand. Arthur sighed and looked out the window, seeing the sun peek over the horizon.

Alfred grinned and took his turn playing with Peter. Although, to be fair, it was more just giving him attention than actually playing. It was just that while Arthur preferred to hold Peter and talk softly to him Alfred had a more physical approach, touching and kissing him all over.

He wondered if Alfred wasn't doing it just to remind himself that he was there, that he was truly alive and real. Even though it had been just a little over a year since they'd even thought seriously about having children, it still felt odd now for Arthur to look down and be able to see his feet, for him not to have all that extra weight attached (not that he'd lost as much of it as he'd thought. It seemed as though he'd gained more fat than he'd previously known and it was painfully obvious since he still had to wear the tunic that allowed him to nurse. At least his other one would have hidden it and made him feel a bit better about himself). Sometimes it felt like it wasn't happening, like none of it had happened and Peter wasn't actually theirs.

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts as the kettle started to whistle. He jumped, not expecting the noise, but then stood to get what he needed from the cupboards.

"Would you like some tea this morning, Alfred?"

"Yeah," he said, "I could use a pick me up." He smiled up at Arthur like he was the most important, most beautiful thing in the entire world. He hadn't seen that in weeks, why then? Maybe it was residual from the way that he'd been looking at Peter a moment ago. Arthur felt a surge of jealousy. But then Alfred's smile faded, "You okay, Artie?"

His words brought Arthur firmly back to reality. "Fine," He said, turning away, "I just had a bit of a moment, but I'm alright."

"Okay, if you say so." Alfred said, not sounding entirely convinced.

Arthur had managed to clear all of the thoughts he knew he shouldn't have by the time he got back to the table with two cups of tea along with some bread and cheese for breakfast. After all, if they wanted to get everything together (which took much longer now that Peter was there) and arrive at Alfred's parents' before lunch they wouldn't have time to waste on a hot breakfast.

Peter watched with interest as they ate, going so far as to try to grab Alfred's hand on the way to his mouth.

Alfred laughed, "Sorry, kiddo. You can't eat this yet. Don't worry, you'll be stuck with real food for the rest of your life soon enough."

Peter frowned and for a moment Arthur was afraid he was going to start crying, but instead he just reached out across the table to him.

"You already had your breakfast," Arthur said, taking him back. He stood, "I'm going to try to pack up for the trip."

"You barely ate anything," Alfred said, frowning.

Arthur looked down, seeing that he was right, and shrugged, "I'm just not too hungry today. "Now come on, sweet, let's go get your things."

Alfred still frowned, but he didn't say anything.

It was Gilbert that answered the door.

"Hey! Welcome back to my awesome house!" He said, grinning, "This is Peter, right?" he asked, poking Peter's cheek.

Peter gave Arthur a look that said, "First you strap me up, then you put me through this? I hate you all."

"Yep, that's him." Alfred said, grinning and pushing his way into the house, "But I showed you mine, now show me yours."

"Are Freddie and Arthur home?" Alfred's mum asked, coming into the front room.

"Yep," Alfred said, "Thought we'd stop by eventually."

Alfred's mum came forward, smiling at him with arms open, only to walk right past his son and pluck Peter from Arthur's arms.

"Hi there, you adorable little thing," He said, rubbing Peter's nose with his own, ah, _that _was where Alfred had learned that, "You're so cute! I'm your grandma, so that means I get to spoil you rotten!"

"You shouldn't just say things like that, Mom," Gilbert said.

"You started calling Mom 'mom'?" Alfred asked.

Gilbert shrugged, "I don't want the kids growing up to call him Tino. Now do you want to see your nephews or not?"

"Yeah!" Alfred shouted, getting excited again.

"I'll take care of this," Alfred's mum said, motioning with his head towards Peter, "We can introduce them later."

Gilbert went down the hall and Alfred bounded after him and then, feeling out of place and a bit put-out, Arthur followed.

Matthew was in bed with one of the twins in his arms while Alfred's dad held the other one. He was smiling. Alfred's dad was actually smiling. The only other time Arthur had seen him smile was at their wedding.

After checking to make sure that everyone was awake, Gilbert stepped in and declared, "I, the best husband ever, have brought Arthur and Alfred in to meet our vastly superior children!"

"Oh, sod off," Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

Gilbert grinned, "It seems that your mind cannot handle the magnitude of our awesomeness!"

"My stomach cannot handle the magnitude of your stupidity. Before you continue, I must remind you that I have three older brothers, all of whom decided that picking on me was the family sport."

"I'm totally-"

"Gil," Matt said softly, "Please leave them alone. I just want this to be nice and friendly," but no one really seemed to care, because then Alfred's dad stood.

"You'll b' nice t' them t'day. 'N the kids 're sleepin' so b' quiet." He grunted, glaring down at Gilbert.

"Yes, sir."

"No 'dad'?" Alfred asked, grinning.

"Not at times like these."

Alfred's dad sat back down, smiling at his grandson again.

Alfred sat on the edge of Matthew's bed, "How've you been?" he asked, taking his hand.

"I've been good." Matt said, smiling, "Mom and Dad have been really helpful, though. I don't know how Gil and I would ever be able to handle two at once on our own. You?"

"We're holding up. I'm still really excited about Peter, but Arthur's gone back to being grouchy and moody."

"I'm still here," Arthur said, scowling. Just because Alfred was closer to Matthew, both physically and metaphorically speaking didn't mean that Arthur couldn't tell him how he felt.

"I know," Alfred said, smiling at him.

"Well then why don't you come here and talk to me?" Matthew asked softly.

"Right," Arthur said, blushing and sitting next to Alfred, who interwove their fingers.

"So how've you been, then?" Matthew asked.

"Tired," Arthur said.

Matthew laughed, "I know how that is, with the feedings in the middle of the night."

"And how no matter what the moment they wake up you do too?"

"Of course. Where does yours sleep?"

"Well, with Alfred's tendency to pull me into tight hugs in his sleep I didn't feel too safe just letting him sleep on me during the night, so we have one of those three-sided crib things that attaches to the side of our bed. He still naps on or next to me, though."

"That's nice. Gil sleeps like a lump, so I usually have both of them on me."

"Do they both _fit_?" Arthur asked, thinking of the way that Peter spread himself across his entire chest from the time he was born and eyeing the size of the child in Matthew's arms.

"They share. I suppose they're used to it. That doesn't mean they'll let me feed them at the same time, of course, even if they're both hungry."

"Do they get distracted too?"

"No, they just don't like it. And then the one that gets fed last gets awfully whiny. That's why we feed Eric first usually. He's a lot more noisy than Jason. He'd scream at the top of his lungs, but Jason just sort of whimpers."

"Oh right," Alfred said, "Which is which?"

"This is Jason," he said, looking down at the sleeping baby in his arms, "He didn't want to go to grandpa this time, but Eric didn't mind."

"How can you tell them apart?" Arthur asked, looking back and forth between the almost identical babies (to be fair, as far as he was concerned all babies looked very similar).

"They've each got string around one of their ankles. Eric is red, Jason is green. Of course, it's fairly easy to tell when they're awake, but it's nice to be sure."

"That's genus." Arthur said.

"Oh no," Matthew said, blushing "Mom and Dad did the same thing to me and Alfred when we were little. We started to look different even from a distance by the time we were three and they stopped worrying, but even then we laced our shirts different colors. I'm just hoping that the same will happen with them. But it shouldn't be a problem by the time they can talk because their personalities are _really _different."

Peter started screaming and both Arthur and Alfred were on their feet in less than a second, tearing back to the main room.

Alfred's mum was walking towards them looking sheepish. "I think this wants you." He said, holding Peter out to Arthur, who snatched him back.

"Ssh," he said, bringing his head down close to Peter so that he boy could see it was him more clearly and stroking his face gently, "It's okay, Peter. It's alright, Mummy's here."

"Don't feel bad, Mom," Alfred said, "He pretty much does this whenever Arthur leaves the room for more than five minutes, even if he's with me. You actually lasted pretty long for a stranger."

"Probably because I was playing with him," Alfred's mum said cheerfully, "It's okay, I might be old but I _do _remember when you and Matthew were babies, except then it was worse then because you had to be together _and _with me. I think Sve and I only got an hour of sleep a day between when we got Matt and when we got you…"

Peter had calmed down and was smiling up at Arthur, gurgling happily. Arthur smiled back down at him.

"Hey," Alfred said, tapping him on the shoulder, "I'm gonna go back and chill with Mattie some more, okay?"

"I'll come with you," he said, looking up, "I think your dad might want to see Peter too."

"Cool," Alfred smiled and the two went back to Matthew's room.

By the time that they returned, the twins were awake and they both sat in their mother's arms. Arthur saw what Matthew had said about sharing now. They'd both been unwrapped, but they didn't spread their arms and legs everywhere like Peter did, so they actually had room to spare.

"Can I show him?" Alfred asked suddenly, expression serious.

"Yeah, of course," Arthur said, slightly taken aback at the question.

"Thanks," Alfred smiled again and took Peter.

Instead of going to his father like Arthur had expected, he went to his brother and actually climbed into bed with him. Now that they were next to each other, Arthur saw that Peter was actually a lot bigger than either of the twins, but all three of them looked almost eerily similar. Gilbert must have left at some point because he reentered the room then, uncharacteristically silent as he watched the five of them. The babies were looking at each other curiously, all of them probably confused and unsure of who exactly they were looking at. Peter reached out to touch one of his cousins (Arthur couldn't be sure of which one) and he didn't seem to mind too much. In fact, he reached out to do the same thing, both of them awkwardly and jerkily feeling each other while the third watched.

Alfred smiled up at Matthew, "We made it, Mattie," he said softly, "Almost twenty years, but we made it."

"I know Freddie." He smiled back, and they both looked like they were almost in tears, "I know."

Arthur wanted to go over and kiss Alfred, but felt as though he would be imposing. He let them be. After all, Matthew had loved him first.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Hi there! Hope you all had a good Christmas or, if you're not Christian, that December 25th was a decent day anyhow.

Short chapter is short, and there's probably going to be another short one coming a bit later this week. I hope to get the final chapter up before the end of December so that you can ring in the New Year with porn, as was always intended.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Arthur used to sing Alfred to sleep. It sounds stupid and childish, more like something a parent would do than a husband, but he did.<p>

When Arthur had first come to work for his family, Alfred would have nightmares all the time. Back then the world seemed so big and so terrifying. Probably just to annoy him, Matt had a habit of talking about all these magical creatures he spent time with, especially this talking bear he'd supposedly taught to attack intruders. That was supposed to be a normal thing to do: you played with magical creatures when you were a kid so that if you needed them later in life they'd be there for you. But how could you play with something you couldn't see that then could, if you pissed it off, kill you without you ever knowing it was there? That was Alfred's problem. Matt kept saying that he'd invited pixies or that stupid bear to sleep in bed with them, and Alfred had no idea if he actually did or not. He was always afraid that he'd roll over in the middle of the night onto the bear and it'd rip him to shreds.

But at least when Matt was there Alfred knew that there was nothing _too _dangerous. After all, he'd never let anything horrible in the house and even if he did the bear would chase it away. After Matt had gone to be a squire and Mom and Dad were off being generals, though, there was absolutely nothing that would stop a dragon or a faerie or a million other dangerous monsters that he couldn't see from coming in and gobbling him up. But he had to be a man then, he told himself, because he was the only Oxenstierna left in town.

That didn't stop him from crying sometimes, especially on the nights when it was a full moon and he could just see blips of things that weren't there the rest of the time. One night Arthur heard him. However, instead of laughing like Alfred had expected, he asked to sleep next to him (Arthur had always been sweeter when someone was really upset or he was tired so they had a double whammy going at the time). Arthur wrapped his arms around him and sang slowly, gently in his ear. For years, Arthur's presence and voice soothed Alfred to sleep when there was nothing else he could depend on.

Even after they were married things stayed the same to a certain extent. If Alfred was really upset, and sometimes even if he just asked nicely, Arthur would sing to him. His voice was so smooth and he seemed to have a natural talent for knowing what songs to sing and at what speed. As far as Alfred was concerned, Arthur had the most beautiful voice in the world (of course, as far as Alfred was concerned, Arthur had the most beautiful _everything _in the world, but that was the nature of love) and their son seemed to agree.

Alfred could usually get Peter down. He could tire him out so that he'd only cry for about five minutes before he passed out. At first it had torn at Alfred's heart to hear it at all, but after three months he was starting to not feel like such a monster. He understood that he wasn't doing anything wrong, that it was just something that babies did. But then there were the nights that he just wouldn't stop screaming. That was when Arthur came in.

He sang in the bedroom usually. He'd stand in front of the fireplace and sway in time to whatever he was singing. The types of songs he sang changed too. Normally he started with a fairly upbeat folk song and then slowly transitioned to ones that were slower and deeper, until he finally regressed to something sweet and tuneless that he probably just made up as he was singing, but still felt like it was hundreds of years old.

That night, by the time Arthur set Peter down Alfred was almost asleep too. It had taken longer than usual, but that was just fine. It just meant that he got to hear more and more of Arthur's beautiful voice. He pulled back the blankets and smiled, inviting Arthur to his spot.

Arthur sighed but crawled into bed and allowed himself to settle against Alfred's chest. Alfred didn't miss that dejected, sad look in his eyes. He hadn't missed it for the past few months, no matter how ignorant Arthur believed him to be. He'd tried to let Arthur get better on his own because he knew Arthur hated it when he tried to talk about feelings (he didn't like it either, but he liked his husband getting hurt even less), but no more. He just couldn't take it for another day.

"Arthur," he said gently, not wanting to seem like he was forcing him even if he was, "Talk to me."

"We should be quiet," Arthur said, "Peter needs his sleep."

"Yeah, and you need more than sleep," he tightened his arms around Arthur's waist.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Let's drop this."

"No."

"Alfred, I'm not in the mood to talk."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Alfred, you know I just don't like talking."

"I know. But I know that you used to love arguing, and I know that you used to love sitting in silence, and I know that you used to love life, and I know that you used to love me."

"Why are you using past tense?"

"Because you don't anymore."

"Of course I do. I'm just tired."

"No. I know that can't be it."

"Well it is."

Alfred placed his forehead on the back of Arthur's neck, "When was the last time you were happy? Not like "my life is utterly complete" kind of happy or even "I just got bread for half price" kind of happy. I mean "I'm in bed with someone I love and it's warm and comfortable" kind of happy."

"I'm in bed with you and Peter and it's warm and comfortable. Happy now?"

"No, because _you're_ not happy."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I can see it on your face, and when I'm holding you like this I can feel it."

There was a tense silence, and then Arthur said, "What if I've tried to be happy and failed? What if I know that I should be happy, but for some reason I'm just not. What then?"

"Then I can help," he turned Arthur around, "Mom said that this happens sometimes. It happened to him, and he asked around and it happens often enough. It'll go away on its own, but I can still do something. I can't fix it long-term, but I can do my best to make life a little better one day at a time."

"Alfred…"

"I'll do my best, okay? Because you're beautiful and fantastic and I don't want you to be unhappy."

Arthur hugged him tightly, "Thank you," He said quietly, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, save that for when I've actually done something," Alfred smiled, glad that it hadn't dissolved into a shouting match, "So where do you want me to start? Anything you feel bad about?"

"I-I took too long to get Peter to sleep."

"Hey, you did better than me. He was being stubborn today. I wonder who he gets that from, hmm?"

Arthur actually smiled at that.

"There ya go! And even if it took longer, I wouldn't mind. Your voice is beautiful."

"You really think so?"

"I do. If I could only hear one thing for the rest of my life it would be you singing."

"You're just saying that," he blushed and looked away.

"No, it's true. But I'm biased. Even when you get old and your voice turns all tense and scratchy I'll still think it's beautiful."

"Oh, you romantic idiot."

"What else?" Alfred asked, knowing that the insult just meant he was starting to feel better.

"I… My stomach," he admitted.

"What, this?" Alfred climbed down his body and lifted up his shift. He still had a little bit of fat left (but not enough for it to really be noticeable in Alfred's opinion) and some rather prominent stretch marks.

"Yes." He was averting his eyes again, probably not wanting to look.

"Well _I _don't see nothing wrong."

"_Anything." _

"No, nothing," Alfred said, not sure if he was correcting Arthur correcting his grammar or correcting the idea that Arthur was unattractive in any way. He cupped Arthur's belly, "I get that you're used to being skinny, but this'll go away soon enough. You're thinner than you were when Peter was born."

"The stretch marks won't leave."

"No, but I actually like them."

"Like them? How the hell could you like them?"

Alfred climbed back up to Arthur's level, "You know what mom calls his?"

"Why would I?"

"Battle scars," Alfred said, ignoring him in favor of running a hand along Arthur's side. "Matt and I would ask him about them when we were younger, and he said that they were battle scars, just like the ones he has all over. But," he smiled and traced some of the actual scars on Arthur's side, "He likes them better than all the others. He said that his normal scars came from hate or stupidity. But these," he ran his fingers over where he knew the stretch marks were, "Come from love. He told us that they come from the fact that he loved dad so much that all of it couldn't stay in just two people."

"Their child was a girl, though."

Alfred shrugged, "It didn't matter. They still gave us their love, same as they would have if we'd actually grown in mom instead of some random woman. But you know what? Even if there was something that actually made you disfigured, just like how you'll never sound ugly, you'll never look ugly either." He took the chance to kiss him slowly and sweetly, trying to impress the point on him even more.

Arthur looked so vulnerable when he pulled away. His cheeks were red, his hands were shaking, his eyes were filled with tears, and he was on his back with his shift pulled up. Alfred wasn't sure if he should offer comfort sex or not, but he knew that he wanted him really, really badly. But, as it turned out, Arthur beat him to it.

He half-smiled and let out a weak laugh, "This is the point where I usually beg you to make love to me, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, smiling, "It is."

They kissed again, but Arthur pulled away, "Sorry, love, I don't think I'm up to it tonight."

"That's okay," Alfred said, just slightly put out, "I was warned that this was part of the unhappy thing. But when you change your mind," he grinned and ran his hand along Arthur's thigh (Arthur let out a squeak at that, but Alfred didn't really care. He deserved a little compensation), "You know where to find me, sexy."

"Pervert," Arthur said, but his accusation had no bite to it, and Alfred wondered if he didn't like the little bit of attention in spite of not wanting sex, "I'll let you hold me tonight if you don't try anything funny."

"I'll take that to mean, 'please snuggle with me, dearest husband.'"

"Take it however you want," Arthur said, burying his face in Alfred's shift sleepily.

Alfred lay awake for a little while longer, running his fingers through Arthur's hair and keeping an eye on Peter, making sure that he was still breathing and not waking up, after all even if Arthur was upset somebody still had to do his job. He couldn't last very long next to a snoozing Arthur, though, so soon he fell asleep. That night he dreamed of all the times he'd felt more in love with Arthur than usual, allowing the past and the present to intermingle with possible futures.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Bitty micro chapter here.

This was shorter than I thought it would turn out to be, but whatever.

If it's unintelligible, I blame the fact that I've been on Captalia the past few days. 030

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><p>Arthur wasn't sure if Peter learning to crawl was a boon or disadvantageous. At least he kept himself busy now. Instead of needing to be held or entertained, he would move around the room, touching everything and shoving whatever he could into his mouth.<p>

It wasn't too horrid if Arthur half kept an eye on him. At least he could work again now. For the better part of a year he had been chained to Peter, not able to have any sort of life beyond caring for the brat. Alfred helped in what ways he could, but he wasn't able to feed Peter, and he didn't seem able to see the subtle changes in his aura that showed what he needed.

That was the real problem: Peter couldn't talk. At least when he had been inside Arthur he simply took what he needed and then Arthur's body later informed him of how to recoup. Now it was more guesswork than anything else. There were some ways to tell, yes, but it wasn't always reliable. So often, Alfred would be scrambling for ages trying to figure out whether he was tired or hungry or wet or even just bored.

Well, bored was rarely a problem anymore. Arthur gave Peter a quick glance. He was fine, as always. They'd put a blanket down and placed his favorite toys on it- the rag doll, the rattle, the shiny but smooth bits of metal that made jingly noises- but there wasn't much of a point in that. Peter had never been in Arthur's study before, so the room was the biggest toy. It was fairly safe. Everything truly dangerous was up high and in locked cabinets. As for the corners of said cabinets, well, Peter would have to learn to steer someday. The next time Peter wanted to come play he'd have to remember to clean up more carefully, though. He'd seen him rolling in a dust bunny a few minutes ago and had had to get up and stop him.

Arthur didn't worry about Peter getting hurt as long as he was watching him. It was just too much work to make everything perfectly safe. Besides, when he was a child he'd provoke the dogs and play with rusty farm equipment and then there were his brothers to consider. He'd turned out all right, at least as far as he thought. Besides, it was better for him to be prepared. Alfred, on the other hand, liked to coddle Peter, to hold him close and pretend that life would never happen to him. Arthur turned back to his work

Life happened to everyone in the end.

Peter babbled away quietly as he moved around the room. He loved babbling to no end. Arthur was not looking forward to being in a room with him and Alfred at the same time once he could hold a conversation. That day he seemed to be favoring a sort of "muh" sound above his other vocalizations. Arthur didn't worry about it. Aside for the couple of seconds every minute where he was obliged to see where Peter was and how he was doing, Arthur tried to block him out.

They were still alright, but bills were piling up. Arthur needed to start contributing money again since they were still paying for having the storage room cleaned up and made available for Peter (he had a crib and all of his toys in there, but Alfred just kept pushing the date they were going to force him to spend the night in his own room back further and further)

Then Peter came to him. He crawled right over and sat down next to him. He babbled the entire time, not letting up his torrent of nonsense for anything. Eventually, Arthur turned away and went back to work.

Peter grabbed his tunic and tugged on it.

It was gentle, non-destructive; Arthur would allow it for now. He was probably just enamored by the gold thread. But he didn't stop tugging and he didn't stop babbling either.

"Oh, what is it you want?" Arthur asked, looking down at him.

Peter was staring at him. Arthur stiffened. He knew that expression. It was Alfred's determined face. "Muh! Muh- ee!"

Oh.

_Oh. _

"Y-you've been calling me this whole time, haven't you? You've been trying to say mummy."

"Muh-ee!" He held up his hands, obviously wanting to be held.

Arthur took him and set him on his lap, but he couldn't help bit stare. Peter had said his first real word. He'd said it a while ago: calling to Arthur, wanting Arthur to pay attention.

He felt something in his heart break.

But it must have snapped in just the right way, because all of a sudden he felt a flood of emotion. There was guilt in there and of course sadness that he'd missed his first born's first word, but that didn't really matter. What mattered was the surge of affection he felt for the little person sitting across from him.

Arthur thought he'd loved him before. He thought he understood. He hadn't. In retrospect it seemed almost like the baby that grew inside of him that he'd loved and the one that had come out he'd taken care of were two different people. Now it was different. Now Peter felt like his son, like they had a bond now, a real solid bond.

"Muh-ee?" Peter asked, looking confused and worried.

"Mummy's fine, love," Arthur said, stroking his hair, "No, mummy's better than fine. But we've got to go see daddy, alright? Come on, then."

He took Peter across the hall. Alfred was bent over his desk working on some small bits of metal. He sat up when he realized they'd come in.

"Hey, baby," he said, "What's up?"

"It's Peter, he-" Suddenly, Arthur felt weak. He wanted to say it, but nothing came out.

Alfred was on his feet and visually inspecting Peter within a few seconds, "Is he hurt? What happened?"

"N-no, it's not that. It's just he- uh, that is to say…"

Why was he so tongue-tied? It was just Alfred for fuck's sake!

…But when had he gotten so attractive?

Fuck, he hadn't looked that sexy since… well, since before Peter was born.

"Arthur, please, just tell me what happened." He was so worried, so scared of what could have happened to their child. It was far more attractive than it should have been.

"He talked," Arthur said before he could think about being nervous.

"He what?"

"He spoke. He called for me."

"Seriously?" he grinned ear to ear and looked down at Peter. _God, _how could he have forgotten how his stomach usually clenched in the best way when Alfred looked like that? "Did you say 'mommy,' sweetheart?"

"'_Mummy,'"_ Arthur stressed. "He's going to address me properly, dam- _darling." _If Peter was going to start mimicking words, Arthur would have to be more careful about censoring himself, wouldn't he?

"Can I have him for a sec?"

Arthur handed him over. His stomach clenched even tighter as he watched Alfred holding their baby close. Alfred leaned down and gave Peter a kiss on the forehead.

"That's awesome sweetie, but," He held Peter out, "Can you say 'daddy' too? I'd be really happy if you said 'daddy.' Give it a shot, please, Peter?"

Peter screwed up his face in concentration. "Tah- Tah… Tah-ee?"

Alfred smiled and leaned forward to rub their noses together, "Close enough."

"Um, Alfred, could we sit down for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, 'course."

The two of them sat together on the sofa in the main room. Alfred began to bounce Peter on his knee. Peter giggled and tried to wrap his little hands around Alfred's wrists.

"Hey Alfred…"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Tah-ee?"

"No, not you, sorry Peter," he stopped bouncing him for a moment to pet his hair, "So what were you saying, Arthur?"

"I- I've got some good news."

Alfred stopped bouncing Peter again and stared at Arthur in horror, "You're not pregnant again, are you?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Alfred, we haven't had sex since I was pregnant with that one," he said, gesturing to Peter.

"Oh, right. Duh," he placed his hand on his forehead, "It's just that you said good news and stuttered, so my brain jumped to that."

"No, Alfred. I just… I think I'm starting to feel better."

Alfred gasped and smiled even bigger than he had before, "Really?"

"Really," Arthur couldn't help but smile back.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything," Alfred said, smile shrinking a bit, "But what makes you say that?"

Arthur knew he felt too much like a _boy_ again to put it into words, so he just leaned forward and kissed him. He made it as romantic as possible, slow and sweet. Peter started making a fuss since they weren't paying attention to him, but he could just deal with it for a few minutes. God, Arthur couldn't remember the last time he and Alfred had kissed at all, much less like they did then.

"Oh, Alfred," he whispered when they pulled apart.

"What?" His eyes were half-closed, and mouth in the smallest smile. Ohh, and England thought that grin was sexy.

"You know how you said that when I started feeling depressed I stopped loving you?"

"Yeah, what of it?" The poor boy was starting to look nervous.

"You were right. Because now Alfred, oh _now…" _He kissed him again.

When they separated this time, Peter had stopped fussing and was just looking up at them, trying to figure out what they were doing.

"Muh-ee?"

Arthur plucked Peter from Alfred's lap and held him close.

"Mummy and Daddy are fine, my sweet. In fact," He looked over Peter's shoulder and smiled at Alfred, "Mummy and Daddy are better than they've been for a long, long time."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Well, tomorrow I go back to school, so I wanted to finish this up for you guys before life starts again. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! It's been a lot of fun for me, and I'm excited to have finally finished such a long fic. I hope to see you guys around later!

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><p>Peter looked exactly like his father and there was no use denying it now. He'd gotten everything from him: those big blue eyes, the perfect nose, the soft straight hair, the strong jaw line (even if it was hidden under baby fat, it was still there), the radiant smile… Hell, they even had the same bloody personality. At least the boy had inherited some of the general Kirkland traits: massive eyebrows and an almost silky aura. Arthur privately hoped that as he aged Peter's currently platinum-blond hair would turn ashen instead of gold, but he didn't worry about it too much. He was lovely just as he was. Arthur could appreciate it so much more than before. Whatever had been holding him back after Peter was born seemed to have past and he felt like he was a part of everything again and head over heels in love with both of his boys.<p>

Although, he wished that his romantic love for Alfred had returned earlier because watching him interact with a child who looked so much like him sent the best sort of tingle up Arthur's spine.

That, much like the wish about Peter's hair, he also kept private.

At least, he hoped it was private.

Alfred, for his part, seemed to be absolutely fascinated by Arthur's ability to produce milk. Whenever he nursed Peter Alfred would watch. Sometimes he tried to hide it, but often he simply stared. Arthur wasn't sure when it had started, because he had only noticed it recently.

This all came to a head one day when they were both locked inside because of a rainstorm. Arthur lay in bed with Peter, who was sucking lazily on him but not really drinking anymore, spread out on his chest. He ran a hand down Peter's spine, loving the closeness he felt to his baby boy. Alfred was next to them, just looking. Arthur had long since gotten used to it, and Alfred had seen it all anyway. But then the idiot did something new, he leaned over and wrapped his lips around Arthur's other nipple.

After gasping, Arthur hissed, "What the Hell are you doing, boy?"

Alfred smiled into his nipple but didn't say anything. He just looked up at him with those big blue eyes shining mischievously and began to suck, feeding right next to his son. Arthur's movement in response seemed to amuse Peter because he had the exact same look on his face.

He felt himself blushing, and it didn't get better when Alfred lifted his head and said, "Hey, Petie, look at daddy," because then he did and Alfred nuzzled him.

Arthur's heart stuttered when Peter grabbed Alfred's shirt and Alfred wrapped his arms around his tiny body. He sat up and began to leave kisses on every inch of space available, from Peter's cheeks to his toes. Peter giggled and squirmed.

"Sorry I had to interfere with cuddle time, but your mommy really likes it when I do this to you," Arthur blushed redder in embarrassment. It wasn't a secret after all… Damn. "Yes he does. And he's so pretty right now. Mommy's always pretty, but…" he smiled even bigger, "well, someday you'll understand. Now, I'm gonna put you in your cradle, and you need to be quiet because I'm gonna make your mommy really, really happy, okay?"

He gurgled happily.

"Great! Daddy loves you." He nuzzled him again and placed him in the crib attached to the bed.

"Hey! Don't _I _get a say in this?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, come on," he pouted, "We haven't had sex in _months." _

"But Peter is _right there." _

"-And he's not gonna remember any of this anyway." Alfred set Peter down gently, placing one last kiss on the top of his head.

"But I still-"

Then Alfred was back over him now, leaning down so that their eyes locked, "Come on, you want me, don't you?"

"This is neither the time nor the place."

"What do you mean? It's evening, and it's raining. We're at our own home, in bed, and you're more beautiful than ever."

Arthur blushed, "It's just… it's weird with him so close. He could come out and-"

"Ignore him," Alfred whispered, licking his ear, "It's just you and me."

Arthur shuddered, "Oh, _Alfred!" _

"Come on, let me love you."

Alfred pulled away and looked at him; face that mixture of desire and respect that drove him crazy because even though he knew he'd be on the bottom on the bottom he was still in complete control of the situation. He just nodded. His breaths were shallow and rapid already. _Damn. _

Alfred smiled and leaned down to kiss him. They broke apart for a moment to strip naked but then they were back on each other, licking and sucking and kissing, cocks rubbing together, fingernails biting skin. It had been way too long. Arthur didn't even know how badly he needed Alfred until he was on top of him kissing him silly.

It took an awfully long time for Alfred to find the slick. It had been buried beneath swaddling clothes and extra diapers and other baby things, but he expertly uncorked it and soaked three of his fingers in the oil. Arthur spread his legs and lifted his hips, allowing Alfred the best access possible. It had been so long, after all. A bit tentatively, Alfred prodded his entrance with one finger before pushing in.

"Oh, just like that."

"Shit, you're tight."

"I know. I can feel it." There was a pause as Arthur waited for himself to adjust. "Alright, love, I think you can add another."

"Alright," Alfred slid another in and Arthur felt his muscles start to stretch. Then Alfred tried to move his fingers apart.

"No! Too soon, just wait a moment."

"Okay."

Alfred began to move his fingers around, probably looking for Arthur's favorite spots. He didn't seem to remember where they were, though. Arthur supposed that made sense: they might have actually moved after he went back to being fully male. But eventually he managed to find one of them, which made him shudder.

"More, Alfred. More."

"Sir, yes, sir," He said, grinning and moving his fingers apart.

Arthur sighed and felt himself beginning to melt. Alfred had begun to find more nice spots. With his other hand Alfred rubbed Arthur's nipple, making some of his milk dribble out. Arthur moaned and bucked into Alfred's fingers. How had he ever forgotten this? Then, as Alfred added a third he brushed that place that made white spark behind Arthur's eyes.

"There," He breathed, "Right there."

"Here?"

"No, a little lower and to the right. …My right. Oh yes, there, yes!"

Laughing, Alfred pressed against the spot again and again, making Arthur squirm and want more.

"Forget stretching," Arthur said, "I need you _now." _

"But I-"

"_Now, _Alfred!"

He pulled away to slick up his cock, "Are you sure?"

"Stop asking and get inside me already!"

"If you say so, boss." Alfred false annoyed tone couldn't mask the fact that he was very much enjoying himself, especially with the way that his hardened cock was rubbing against Arthur's entrance.

Arthur just grinned and wrapped his arms around Alfred's beautifully muscular back. He closed his eyes and felt Alfred slide in, filling him after he had been empty for so long.

Oh, _fuck, _he hadn't been stretched quite enough but it didn't really matter. It felt good just to be with his husband again. Arthur couldn't keep his eyes open no matter how much he wanted to see Alfred's glorious sex face. He just leaned back, wrapped his legs around the small of Alfred's back, and let his body take control.

Alfred leaned down to bite at his chest, nibbling at his collar bone and leaving love-bites all over. Arthur just groaned, trying to keep up but too overwhelmed to do a proper job. Then the little bastard had the balls to bite one of his swollen nipples _hard. _

"No," he said, "That's sensitive."

"How 'bout this then?" And then he started sucking.

"Holy fuck…"

It was interesting to say the least: gentle, calming feeling of nursing combined with hard, erotic thrusts. Arthur didn't know what to do, so he just moaned and clutched Alfred's head to his chest. Then Alfred stopped sucking, pressing his broad, hot tongue against Arthur's nipple while one hand came up to coax milk from its partner.

With a shout, Arthur's eyes flew open and he looked down at Alfred, who seemed to sense it and returned the gesture happily. Alfred often accused him of having intense eyes, that he was able to convince him of anything just by looking at him right, but with how much passion Alfred had in his as he just stared up at him Arthur just had to look away. It was too powerful, too pure.

He turned to look at Peter to see if he was up to any mischief. He was fine, just sitting there and watching them with a confused look on his face. But those eyes, those same bloody blue eyes.

"I'm fine," he said to Peter, "This is natural. I-It's how your daddy and I show we love each other. It's how we-" he keened as Alfred gave a particularly hard thrust, "-How we make each other feel good." He was starting to go faster than before, Arthur realized. He was probably getting close. "And, Oh God, it feels so good," He looked back down at Alfred, starting to forget where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. One of Alfred's hands went down to begin to pump his cock, "Oh, I hope you get married. I hope you feel as fantastic as I do right now someday. I hope you know what it feels like to be this in love someday. And, fuck it, Alfred, I'm coming!" With a shout he spilled himself all over their stomachs, making everything feel sticky and warm. He allowed himself to go limp, even though Alfred was still attacking on both fronts.

He looked back down at Alfred, who was still drinking, and petted his hair. They locked eyes and both of them smiled. Arthur hadn't felt nearly so happy or complete in ages.

He barely noticed when Alfred finished, only feeling a little shot of warmth before Alfred pulled out to just lie on his chest. Arthur stroked his hair, twirling it around his finger.

"You babbled again," Alfred said, grinning at him, "I've missed the babbling."

"Oh, stuff it, will you?"

"I'm just glad I finally got to play with your nipples again." He paced a kiss on each one, "They're so cute like this, all big and dark."

"That is simultaneously one of the sweetest and most disturbing things I've ever heard you say."

"Oh, really? I should talk more, then."

"Mummy?"

Peter had crawled over and was staring at Arthur worriedly. Arthur was just glad that he'd waited.

"Mummy's right here," He said softly, gently stroking Peter's side, "You don't need to worry about me, dear. I'm perfectly fine. Better than fine." He leaned down and nuzzled Alfred's hair.

"Mummy _mine!" _Well _that _was a new combination.

"Hey, I called dibs!" Alfred held him more tightly.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Arthur asked, not sure whether to be exasperated or amused that his husband was arguing with his one-year-old about who he belonged to.

"No!" Both shouted at the same time.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved Alfred to the side.

"Hey! I _totally _saw you first!"

"I know. But if you both say you own me, you might as well share because I don't want _either _of you crying." He lifted Peter and placed him on one half of his chest and guided Alfred's head back onto the other side.

"Just be glad we didn't have twins. If they were both as possessive as you I don't know what we'd do."

"Cry?" Alfred suggested.

"That sounds about right, yes."

"Mummy?"

"I know, my sweet, but sometimes mummy and daddy like to talk."

"No tahk."

"No talk, just cuddle?"

"Ya."

Alfred seemed content just to lie there, letting his head rest next to his son's. He kissed him lightly on the cheek, which Peter responded to with pleased gurgling noises. Apparently now that there was no competition over Arthur they were perfectly content to be in love again. Idiots. His idiots, he thought to himself, gently teasing at their hair. His _boys. _He closed his eyes and lay his cheek against the pillow, feeling completely drained.

He fell asleep like that: husband at his side, child on his chest, and the entire world warm and soft and beautiful.

**Epilogue: Three Years Later. **

Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew sat in the kitchen drinking tea and watching Peter and the twins play out back through the window. Arthur had no idea what they were doing, but Peter was doing a lot of pointing and shouting but all three of them were laughing.

Matthew sighed, "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

Arthur snorted, "They're only four."

"Still, though. I know I like to take things slow, but it seems like yesterday they were born."

"Come on, Mattie," Alfred said, "You're not old enough to talk like that. Wait until you're an old man like Artie."

"I'm not _that _old."

"You were complaining all yesterday that you're starting to get crow's feet."

"It's stress from dealing with you. Besides," he leaned back in his chair, "With age comes wisdom. Of course, that doesn't mean a lot when I'm surrounded by you idiots."

Alfred laughed and they just sat there for a few moments, all three of them with hawk's eyes on their children.

"You know," Matthew said, "Gil says that he wants another kid."

"Oh really?" Arthur said, not taking his eyes off of Peter.

"Yeah, but I don't know. It's not easy taking care of twins. I understand mom so much better now."

"I know what you mean," Alfred said, "I went over to Dad's place the other day, gave him a whole bouquet of flowers and was just like 'I am so thankful to you now!'"

"I know. I was there too, remember?"

"Oh yeah. That kind of takes all the fun away, you know."

"What about you two?" Matthew asked, ignoring his brother's scowling.

Alfred shrugged, "Well, you know how it is. We're so busy just with Peter. Did you know he managed to pull a full grown oak straight out of the ground yesterday?"

"What? No way!"

"Yeah. He almost set it on the house too. I just hope he learns to control himself better someday really soon."

The two brothers continued to talk while Arthur just stared out the window. They were just making small-talk and he was too exhausted to care. If only it weren't rude for him to run away and nap.

After a while, Matthew stood and stretched, "I really should go. Otherwise Gil's going to try cooking dinner again. The last time he tried to make his 'awesome' cooking he forgot about everything but sausages and beer. Make sure the boys come home before sunset."

"'Course," Alfred said, standing and hugging him, "See ya 'round!"

"Of course. Goodbye!"

"Goodbye, Matthew," Arthur said, turning to look at him and smiling good-naturedly.

Alfred saw him out but Arthur didn't bother to move.

"So," he said once his Alfred came back, "Peter's too much of a handful alone is he? That would have been great to know three months ago."

He just laughed and held out a hand to Arthur, "I'll tell him later. It's more fun this way."

Arthur rolled his eyes but took the hand and allowed Alfred to pull him up. They kissed and Alfred rubbed his lower stomach. Arthur placed his hand over his husband's and smiled.

No one had to know about the brand new little life growing inside of him. Not quite yet.

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><p><strong>AN:**Hi everyone, sorry for two a/ns in one story, but I'd just like to make a quick note so that I don't have to keep typing it

No, I am not writing a sequel. I probably am never going to come back to this universe either. It's just that anything else I do won't be able to be as good as this simply because one of the main tools used for driving this story is the discovery of world and relationship elements. With that gone I'd have to find something else to keep it from becoming just another random mpreg fic and even if I did find a new plot then it would end up with a different feel. Also, I feel it would take away from the ending because I kind of like the little bit of ambiguity I put there.

Thank you for all the reviews and such, but I just wanted to answer a common question :)


	16. Extra Content: Threshold

**A/N: **No, I'm not doing another epilogue or a sequel (sorry to those of you who asked!), but here's a bit of extra content anyway! This is Arthur and Alfred's wedding day, just so you know. Enjoy~

* * *

><p>Alfred fixed his appearance for the hundredth time that morning. Aw man, he should have cut his hair. It looked so bad! But Arthur said he liked to have it a little longer. Why couldn't he have at least gotten his damn cowlick to stay down? He tried to press it flat again, and again it popped right back up. He sighed. This was all going to end badly, wasn't it? There was no way. He wanted to cry.<p>

It was then that his mom came in, "Freddie? What's wrong?" He came over and sat next to him, "You look so sad…"

Alfred buried his head in his hands, "Something's going to go wrong."

"Why do you say that?"

"It just won't go right. It can't."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to marry Arthur."

"I do!" He looked back at his mother.

"Then everything will be alright." He stood and smiled serenely, "Now come on, you look nice and we have to get going!"

"But Mom-!"

He tugged on Alfred's wrists, "The longer we stay here the more nervous you're going to feel. Besides, the sooner we get there the sooner you get to see Arthur!"

Alfred sighed and stood. How did he always know what buttons to push?

"Wonderful! Now put that mirror in your bag and let's go." He bounced out of the room.

Alfred followed more slowly. He paused at the threshold and looked back, "Goodbye," He said softly. And with that he closed the door as a final way of cutting himself off from the room that had been his for seventeen years.

Arthur paced back and forth down the side-chapel's aisle.

"Will you stop that?" Danny complained, "You're making me dizzy."

"Shut up!" Arthur barked back.

"Oi! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"The one who'll beat your arse all the way to the next village if you ruin my wedding any more than showing your ugly face already does!"

"I don't care if it's your wedding day or not! If we weren't in a house of God I'd beat ye to a pulp!"

"Well then, shall w-"

"Arthur, Daniel, if either of you lays one hand upon the other today I'll skin you both," Arthur's dad said, not moving from his seat.

"Yes father," They said together.

"That tunic cost me quite a bit. You can't get it dirty."

"Thanks, dad," Arthur said, "It's always nice to know you love me."

It was then that the door opened. It was Alfred. Oh God, oh God, he didn't even have time to panic! Instead he just froze and looked at him. Fuck, where had they gotten blue velvet? Arthur had been amazed when his father had been willing to spend the extra gold for dark green. Maybe he'd realized this would happen, that the Oxenstiernas would still somehow find a way to make them look poor. Stupid military, giving its generals fortunes. Stupid Alfred, accepting something like that. Stupid them, even trying to keep up. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The rest of Arthur's family filed out, leaving the two alone to do what they needed to.

"Um… hi?" Alfred said.

"Hi." Arthur replied, taking a step closer.

"How have you been?"

"Alright, I suppose. My brothers are dreadful without you around, though."

Alfred gave a strained laugh, "I can believe it. It's lonely being home again after staying with your family."

"Yeah," Arthur said, still not quite able to say, _"It's lonely just being without you." _

"So… Uh… you look good?"

"Do I? I haven't slept well in days."

"Me neither," He smiled a little more honestly now, "But I like this color on you. It matches your eyes."

Arthur let out a breath he didn't know he held. So it didn't make him look to plain in comparison, "I could say the same to you."

"Well that's just luck. My dad got married in this way back in the day. I'm just glad that it fits and isn't too out of style."

Arthur finally felt like he could smile back, "Aren't we supposed to be making vows or sharing secrets back here?"

"Hey, from what I understand it's not like there's real rules. We just wait here and do what we have to do to be ready."

"That's true, I suppose." He chuckled to himself, "And what are they really expecting? They all know that I chose to marry the idiot who only goes to church for the festivals and can't even take _that _seriously."

"Damn straight I can't."

"-And who curses in church." He looked scandalized.

"Hey, like you're any better. Didn't you sneak in here as a kid to say every bad word in a holy place?"

Arthur blushed, "James put me up to it."

"Yeah, but _you _still did it. You're going to hell, Artie, straight to hell."

He couldn't stand that Alfred had such an advantage, so he had to make him flustered right back, "Well, why don't I make you join me? We have about ten minutes. Let's take our last chance to have premarital sex."

"Here?"

"We're surrounded by a cone of silence. No one outside can hear us."

"A-Arthur…" He squirmed and blushed, most likely torn between calling Arthur's bluff and accepting.

"I-I'm kidding of course!" Arthur turned away, "I mean, we've waited this long. What's five more hours?" He wondered if he would have said the same if he had slick tucked away somewhere.

"Right. Of course."

It was quiet for a moment. Neither looked at the other.

"I still can't believe it," Alfred said, looking out the window.

"I can't either." Arthur joined him and watched as three bluebirds flittered through the trees, "It's just a normal day, isn't it?"

"How do you think it'll feel?"

"Which part? The sex or being married?"

"Either. Both. I don't know. I'm worried, I guess."

"About what?"

"I'm happy with you and I don't-" He took a deep breath, "I just don't want to mess things up."

"You won't mess things up, Alfred." He reached out and ran his fingers comfortingly down his arm, ending by tangling their fingers together, "I know I'm rubbish at showing it, but I love you. I really do. And do you know what?" Alfred looked at him, "In a few minutes we're going to go out in front of the entire town and tell them that that's enough. That we've decided we love each other enough to give each other our entire lives. That's what this is about. There's no magic in it, no secret power that will bind our souls or some such rot. All it is is the two of us telling everyone that _we're_ never going to let anything separate us."

Alfred looked at him, eyes wide as he took his words in. Then his face softened into a smile, "That might be the most beautiful thing you've ever said."

England smiled back, "I didn't plan it, though, you know."

"And that's why it was so beautiful." He placed his hand on Arthur's chest, right on top of the gold necklace with which he'd proposed, "Your head likes to get in the way of your heart so much. I'm glad it let that much through. Especially today." He smiled at Arthur serenely.

"Idiot, don't just stand there. Kiss me."

"So demanding…" But his smile only grew before he leaned forward to actually kiss Arthur.

Arthur threw his arms around Alfred's shoulders, pulling him closer. Alfred did the same and soon they were pressed against each other, exchanging with touches what they would hopefully soon be doing with words. Arthur wasn't sure how long exactly they kissed, only occasionally shifting to get a new feeling. All he knew was that soon there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Excuse me," A teenage boy, probably a priest-in-training, asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, pulling away with smile still on his face, "I think we are."

"As ready as I'm going to be," Arthur muttered.

"Hey," Alfred said, "I love you."

"I love you too." Arthur said, deciding that since they weren't allowed to speak until the end of the ceremony he might as well leave it at that.

The two of them laced their fingers together and went out to face their destiny

Part of Alfred wanted to apologize for his sweaty hands. He had had to hold other people's clammy, wet hands before and it was disgusting. Thankfully, though, Arthur was just as bad. Maybe in spite of how sure he'd seemed in the chapel he was nervous too. Everyone was looking at them. Oh God, oh God. He felt like they were judging him, still telling him that he wasn't good enough to do this. That he should be ashamed because he wouldn't amount to anything but he was still talking Arthur for himself and-

Arthur squeezed his hand and gave him a smile.

"_It's alright," _He said with his eyes, _"I wanted this too." _

It made Alfred smile back for a moment. Then they looked away, smiling at everyone who had come to wish them luck. The aisle didn't seem as long anymore, the altar not so far away.

Of course, it wasn't as though there was actually much to do during the ceremony itself. A lot of it was just kneeling as the priest spoke slowly and reverently in the most formal version of a long-dead language. Their foreheads were anointed with scented oil, more prayers said, and then they stood to have their wrists tied together by a length of red chord still wet with dye. There was cheering as they interlaced their fingers again. Their families stood to lead everyone else out and into the town square.

Alfred wanted to say something, anything to Arthur. How are you? Do you feel any different? I'm _really _sorry my hands are so fucking sweaty. But he couldn't. The ceremony still wasn't over and it _wouldn't _be over until they christened their new house. At least they were actually going to live in town. It had to be a nightmare for farmers.

Once every single person had filed out of the pews, Arthur and Alfred were finally allowed to leave with only the priest behind them. After the darkness of the church, the streets were almost blinding. The buildings were empty. Almost everyone came to church on the days there were weddings and those that didn't usually at least joined the parade when they noticed it going by. Needless to say, that by the time they approached was a massive number of people gathered around the old bakery they'd purchased.

It was a nice old building: two floors, several smaller rooms on the second floor with a huge kitchen and shop on the first. They'd replaced all the shutters that spring, so the wood was smooth and perfect. Alfred smiled. He was glad that if everyone was seeing his house it was something to be proud of.

When they approached the crowd parted, allowing the three of them to get up to the door. Arthur and Alfred turned around, looking back out at everyone. The priest stood in front of them, cleared his throat, and said.

"My good brothers, many of you have seen these two fine young men grow since childhood. All of you know of their stories. Those that don't were told before they appeared before you today. Throughout the months leading up to this day they've many times sworn their love. Today, they come here, to the place where they wish to live out their life together, in hopes that they may before you, before each other, and before God, pledge to uphold the covenant of marriage. Who among you begrudges them this?" There was silence. "And who among you believes they have this right?"

There was cheering. Cheering for him. Cheering for Arthur. Cheering for them _together_. Alfred swallowed hard.

The priest held out the same pot of oil he'd marked their heads with. Both of them reached out and dipped their free hands in it. They caught each other's eye and smiled before they reached out together and placed their hands on each side of the doorframe, marking the wood with their handprints. They turned to each other, then. The priest undid the red chord and placed it above the door. Alfred looked down at their hands; one shining with oil and the other covered with red lines, and tried to burn the image into his memory.

He looked back up at Arthur. He was his _husband _now. How good did it feel to say that word? They kept eye contact for a few brief seconds, savoring the moment, and then threw their arms around each other and kissed.

Alfred pulled away and laughed. And he thought the crowd was cheering before!

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"I think I finally understand the point of weddings."

"Oh, you idiot!" But there was no note of irritation in his voice as he pulled Alfred forward to kiss him again.

It was late at night long after everyone went home that Arthur began to feel nervous again. After all, they'd had their ceremony with everyone in the entire village wishing them luck and happiness, their party where they basically traded their parents' food for things with which to furnish their home, and now there was only one thing left. In spite of his earlier jokes, he was honestly nervous.

They'd talked this out before and worked out all the details. Arthur was fairly certain they'd both been looking forward to it. He knew that _he _had been. Everyone he'd talked to had said it felt amazing, but still… How did you even start without it being incredibly awkward?

Alfred had gotten up and left a few minutes ago. Arthur wondered what he was doing. Maybe he felt just as uncomfortable as Arthur did. After a few minutes he came back and simply stood in front of Arthur.

"Baby," He said softly, "I'm ready whenever you are."

Arthur stood, "Oh. Right. Erm… Well then, I suppose we'd best go to bed, eh?"

"Yeah, probably," He sounded suspicious, but Arthur ignored him.

They put out the fire together but Arthur refused to make eye contact. He knew that Alfred was looking at him expectantly, though, and his face felt hot. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Dammit, Alfred, what do you want?"

"You do want this, don't you?"

He was taken aback, not expecting that question.

"You do want me, right? I need to know."

"O-of course I do," Arthur said, "How could I not?"

"I don't know, it's just… you seem almost like you don't want to do this."

"Alfred, if I didn't want you I wouldn't have taken you." He kissed him on the cheek, "It's just that… that…"

Alfred smiled understandingly, "You're feeling right now what I felt this morning, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Arthur sighed.

"Well I'm not as good at words as you," He took both of Arthur's hands in his, "But I do know that I made it through the wedding and it was totally worth it. I'm sure it'll be the same for you. This is natural. Once we get started it'll be like breathing."

"One can only hope."

"Well then, let's try it. Come 'ere."

He pulled Arthur in for a kiss, not closed-mouthed and chaste like their other kisses had been. This one was deep and hot, tongues tangling, saliva mixing. They had only kissed like that once before and Arthur had had to run away and find somewhere secluded right afterwards. It felt every bit as good now. The combination of touching and being touched was beginning to make something stir deep within Arthur's gut.

Alfred was breathing hard and fast. Arthur could hear the air rushing in and out of his nostrils. He was sure that if he pulled away Alfred would be panting and gasping for breath. For some reason that made the stirring grow worse. Now he was starting to feel it in his groin too. Maybe Alfred was right, just like breathing.

He pulled away. "Bed."

"Right." Alfred practically dragged him into the bedroom and threw himself down on the mattress.

It was a rather nice view. The loose cut of Alfred's tunic meant that with his rump in the air like that Arthur could see it outlined perfectly. Oh, he wanted to touch it and hold it, finally reach out and see if it was as firm as it looked. And why not? He grinned. Alfred was his now. As long as he didn't mind, Arthur could do whatever he pleased. It was so strange to think about. Less than a week ago his father would be mad whenever he saw them so much as kiss. And now…

He squeezed Alfred's arse, making him let out a long drawn-out whine. It wasn't as good as he'd dreamed, it was better. Oh, he could get used to this! He crawled over him, rubbing his rapidly-hardening cock against Alfred's arse. He couldn't wait for the day he could be buried in that. But not yet, they'd decided. They would work up to that point.

"Dammit," Alfred moaned, "Why aren't we naked?"

Arthur rolled away and tugged at his tunic, "Clothes need to just melt," He said, not enjoying the fact that they weren't pressed against each other.

"Oh, come on, why can't I untie these damn knots now?"

"Fuck, hose aren't supposed to be _complicated!" _

Under normal circumstances he knew they'd be embarrassed. Under normal circumstances he'd mourn the fact that on their wedding night they couldn't have an ounce of romance or finesse in their lovemaking. Right then, they were too busy being consumed by the raw, carnal desire they'd suppressed for so many years.

Eventually, they did manage to get naked, throwing their expensive tunics and shifts alike into a pile on the floor. They were on each other then, kissing and rubbing and touching. Arthur left sloppy kisses and bites all over Alfred's chest and shoulder while Alfred raked his nails down Arthur's back. They rutted against each other like dogs, both going for the other's hip.

Later on, Arthur would look back on it as almost comical. They had no idea what they were doing, just letting passion seize them and take them where it wished. There wasn't an ounce of finesse or skill. It was sloppy and unfocused. The most embarrassing part was that it _still _took less than a minute for them to come. But it was all they'd known at the time. They could work on it, try to elevate pleasing each other to an art form. It would take time, but they had forever now. After all, what sort of wedding meant an end?


End file.
